Middle Earth World
by tongue in cheek scribe
Summary: Summary: Theme Park giant develops an amusement park based on the world of LOTR. Out of work after the ROTK, the 9 Walkers take jobs playing themselves. How will they survive the most dreaded enemies they have ever faced…tourists? COMPLETE!
1. A Whole New World

I do not own any of the LOTR characters, or any giant theme parks. Any similarity is purely coincidental. Really.  
  
Summary: Theme Park giant develops an amusement park based on the world of LOTR. Out of work after the ROTK, the 9 Walkers take jobs playing themselves. How will they survive the most dreaded enemies they have ever faced...tourists? AU...most definitely AU. PG13 for occasional crude language and situations. I'm afraid I took a little artistic license with the characters - for example, bringing them back from the dead; ignoring certain key plot points in the books, etc. Please forgive.  
  
Chapter 1A Whole New World  
  
"Welcome to your first day of orientation, gentlemen!" sang the very perky tour guide, bouncing up and down on her toes and flashing them a 10,000 watt smile. "We're going to have such fun today! We'll be getting our costumes, touring the park, and learning all there is to know about Middle Earth World! Aren't you excited? Let's get started!"  
  
The 9 men stood facing her, shifting from foot to foot, and looking extremely uncomfortable.   
  
Four were child sized, hairy footed Hobbits; one was a short, heavily bearded Dwarf; two were normal sized human men, both sporting beards; one was a tall, platinum blonde elf; and the last was an elderly man with a long white hair and beard. All were dressed in khaki shorts, "We Love ME" tee shirts, and small buttons that read, "Earning My Rings." All looked as though they'd rather be slow dancing with an Orc than be here at this moment.  
  
"How by the gods did we get into this? Have we no pride left? Dwarves were not meant to wear short pants. They make me look bowlegged!" Gimli muttered under his beard.  
  
"We've been through this a thousand times, Master Dwarf. We needed to find something to do after the War, and Aragorn needs gold to fix all the damage the Urak-hai did to Minas Tirith," Legolas whispered. "And you are bowlegged."   
  
"If I had me axe, I'd cleave that pointy-eared skull of yours in two," grumbled Gimli, looking up at the tall elf.   
  
"You would need a ladder to reach it, mellonamin," replied Legolas with a small smile, dodging the fist Gimli aimed at his thigh.   
  
"Alrighty then," their guide said, waving her fingers at the two squabbling in the back row, "let's turn those frowns upside down! Our guests won't feel comfortable if you're bickering with each other," she said, flashing that annoying smile again.  
  
"I take it back, Laddie. I'd much rather cleave her skull," whispered Gimli, flashing a fake, yellowed grin at the guide. He was rewarded by a slight snort of agreement from the elf.  
  
"Our first stop is our costuming department, where we keep all of the costumes for Middle Earth World. The costuming department, as well as our employee cafeterias, break rooms, and offices are actually located underneath the park in a series of tunnels," explained the guide as she led them to the tunnel entrance.  
  
Gimli's his eyes lit up at the prospect of a dank, earthy tunnel, but he was sorely disappointed when the tunnels turned out to be cement, and brightly lit by fluorescent lighting. "Well, at least it's underground," he thought, pumping his short legs to keep up with the group.   
  
"Since you will all be playing "face" characters, by which I mean characters that do not need masks or prosthetics, you will be fitted for your costumes here in the Costuming Department. Right this way!" The guide motioned for the group to follow her into a room off the main tunnel.  
  
The group entered a very large room lined with rows upon rows of costumes: gowns, robes, jerkins, leggings, and capes; silks, brocades, leather, wool, and feathers; helmets, crowns, wigs, and armor and weaponry of every conceivable type.   
  
"Exactly who would wear such things in Middle Earth?" asked Gandalf, eyeing a very ornate, neon yellow jerkin trimmed with silver tassels and bells.  
  
"Perhaps someone who wished to have his enemy laugh himself to death?" quipped Boromir.  
  
An older, short, rotund woman stood behind a desk near the entrance. "What character, and what size?" she asked Gandalf.  
  
"I am Gandalf the White," he replied rather regally, looking down his long nose at her. "I know not the size of the garment I will require."  
  
"Fine," huffed the woman, stepping from around the desk. She held up a measuring tape. "Raise your arms, please." She quickly measured Gandalf's arms, waist, and torso. She bent to measure his inseam, but was stopped by a firm hand on her arm.  
  
"Milady, it is unseemly that you would seek to take such liberty with me without my at least knowing your name," Gandalf said, raising his rather bushy brows.   
  
"My name is Matilda, just like it says on my nametag," she replied, tapping the little plastic pin she wore, and narrowing her eyes at him. "Now spread 'em, because I don't have time to deal with nonsense. You're holding up the line!"  
  
"I'll thank you to remember to whom you are speaking, madam! I am the White Wizard! I..."  
  
Straightening up, Matilda interrupted Gandalf with a low menacing voice, "If we are gonna have a problem here, Oh White Wizard, I should warn you that my pocket is full of very long, very sharp straight pins, and I'll have no problem using your privates as a pincushion!" She drew out a handful of pins and waved them in that general direction.  
  
Swallowing hard, Gandalf managed a half smile and said, "Of course, please proceed, Milady."  
  
From across the room, the Hobbits were raising a ruckus.   
  
"Our feet are already leathery and hairy! Mr. Frodo, tell 'im we don't need to wear those horrible things!" Sam whined.  
  
"It's folly! We are Hobbits. This is what Hobbit feet really look like!" Merry cried, shoving his hairy, dirty foot under the attendant's nose. Pippin nodded vigorously while pointing at Merry's foot.  
  
"We don't care what freaky little foot disorder you guys have," sniffed the pimply faced attendant, making a face and pushing Merry's foot to the side, "we can't let you run around the park barefoot! If you want to play a hobbit, you'll have to wear these." He held out a pair of oversized, hairy, plastic feet to Sam.   
  
Glumly, Sam and the other Hobbits each took a pair of feet, and their designated costumes. The guide then marched the entire group over to the dressing room.  
  
"Okay, everyone, you may get changed in here. Here are your locker numbers and combinations. Make sure you memorize the number of your locker and the combination, so you can retrieve your clothes at the end of the day. You cannot, repeat, cannot take the costumes home with you," the guide said, gesturing the group to go inside, "We'll meet back here in 15 minutes."  
  
The group of nine gamely walked into the changing room, and began milling up and down the long rows searching for their assigned lockers. Ignoring the curious glances of other employees in various states of undress, they peered intently at the locker numbers, searching for the ones that matched the numbers given them by their guide. The Hobbits had to keep boosting each other up in order to see the numbers.  
  
"Pity we cannot take these home with us because I am dying to model this for Arwen and my court," Aragorn said sarcastically, fingering the fuschia colored, fake ermine trimmed robe he held in his arms.  
  
"What are you grumbling about?" Boromir asked sharply, "I have to wear these!" He held up the turquoise and orange jerkin and purple leggings he carried. "First one who laughs meets the business end of my fist!" he warned.  
  
"Take heart that you will look somewhat manly, Boromir," Legolas admonished. He looked forlornly at the shiny, silver lame' tunic and leggings given him by costuming. "These breeches will leave nothing to the imagination. And that woman in costuming pinched my hindquarters!" he declared indignantly.  
  
"My robes themselves are not so bad," Gandalf said thoughtfully, "but the tailor must have been truly in his cups when he embroidered these Elven symbols on them! I tried to explain to that horrid woman back there that there must be some grievous error, but she would not listen!"  
  
"What do they say, Gandalf?" asked Frodo.  
  
"Roughly translated, they say "Your mother mates with wargs," Gandalf replied, shooting an evil look back in the direction of the costuming department.  
  
" At least you don't have to wear fake feet," Frodo said under his breath. The other Hobbits sighed in sympathy.  
  
"What type of armor do ye ken this to be?" asked Gimli, rapping on the cheap plastic helmet he carried. "It doesn't look to provide much protection at all. The first time I'm rapped on the head me brains will be in me boots! And this axe - it has no heft! It would nary cut butter - I'm embarrassed to be in the same room with it, never mind carry it!" he groused.  
  
"Aye! The same could be said for this sword - it bends!" Boromir exclaimed, demonstrating by wiggling the blade back and forth. He tossed it up in the air and caught it by the blade. "Witness this, nary a scratch," he continued, shaking his head in disgust. "A madman must have been the smithy!"  
  
"Perhaps someone could explain to me exactly how I am to fire these arrows?" Legolas asked, looking from face to face. He held out a clump of nine or ten arrow shafts firmly glued into the quiver. Turning it upside down and shaking it vigorously failed to release the shafts. "My bow isn't even strung, and it seems the same misfortune has met my knives. I cannot remove them from their sheathes."  
  
"My staff looks able enough," Gandalf contributed, his long fingers tracing the smoothness of the plastic, "but tis so lightweight! What harm will this bestow on mine enemy?"  
  
Eventually, after much grumbling and fist banging against the aluminum lockers in their attempts to unlock them, the Walkers dressed, however reluctantly, in their new costumes. As they returned to the tunnel to meet up with their guide, the Hobbits trailed behind, their new plastic feet making thumping, scraping sounds against the concrete. 


	2. It's A Small World

Disclaimer: I've said it before...I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I do own a pencil, but the lead is broken.  
  
Chapter 2 It's A Small World  
  
Their guide led them to the forecourt of a four-story structure. White concrete was carved into a bricked castle, complete with miniature turrets, drawbridge, and stained glass windows. Golden spires graced the top tower. Turning toward them, the still perky guide beamed her electric smile and chirped, "This is the centerpiece of Middle Earth World - our very own Minas Tirith!" She clearly expected "ooohs" and "ahhhs," or at very least a "wow," instead of the guffaws let loose by her trainees, because her million-dollar smile slipped just a notch.  
  
"This is Minas Tirith? You must be mistaken, milady," Aragorn laughed. "Minas Tirith is a city! A beautiful, gleaming, enormous city! This is...this is..." Overcome with laughter, he couldn't finish.  
  
Legolas tried to be diplomatic. "This cannot be Minas Tirith, milady. It is much, much too small and delicate! Why, the Urak Kai would have only had to sneeze to blow down those walls! And there seems to be a hole right through the middle of it!"  
  
"This IS our Minas Tirith, it is the ONLY Minas Tirith in the COUNTRY, and please refrain from laughing like hyenas." Little Miss Tour Guide was becoming slightly bitchy as she began to lose patience. "Of course there is a hole in the middle...that is how we pass into Rivendell! Please remember that you must always preserve our guests' experience. DO NOT LAUGH AT THE PROPS!" she said, rather loudly, stamping her little tour guide foot.  
  
The Walkers tried to control their laughter, settling down into sporadic snorts.   
  
Boromir whispered to Aragorn, "What does she mean, pass into Rivendell? Rivendell is many days journey from Minas Tirith!"  
  
Aragorn simply shrugged. "I am more confused with each passing moment, my friend. After all we have seen, I doubt not that what she calls Rivendell may very well lie just beyond this atrocity."  
  
"Have none of you read the material we gave you on Middle Earth Park? Even glanced at it? If you had, you would have learned that Middle Earth Park is built like a wagon wheel. Minas Tirith is the centerpiece," the guide pouted, pointedly looking the Walkers in the eye as if daring them to start laughing again. "Each other area branches off from it. Rivendell, The Shire, Fangorn Forest, Isengard, and Mordor are the spokes on the wheel and are all connected to Minas Tirith. The park was built this way to keep the tourists from getting lost!"  
  
The not-so-perky-anymore guide closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Out came that blindingly white smile again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't lose my temper like that. I'm sure that you will all read the material tonight, right?"  
  
"Certainly, milady, certainly," Gandalf said, elbowing Boromir, who was still chuckling, in the ribs.   
  
"Fine. Let's continue on, shall we? We don't have much time before the park opens to the guests! Now, Lord Aragorn, this is where you, of course, will be stationed. Your job is very important, because you will be one of the first characters the guests encounter. You, and the actress playing Arwen, will stand here at the entrance to Minas Tirith, greeting guests, taking photos with them, signing autographs and acting lovey-dovey." The guide turned and began to walk through the arch that led through the heart of "Minas Tirith," beckoning for the group to follow.  
  
"Actress playing Arwen? Methinks you are in serious trouble, Aragorn," chuckled Gimli as they followed behind the guide.  
  
"I can hardly wait to see what they have in store for you, Master Dwarf," Aragorn replied, blushing furiously. "Perhaps being buried under a pile of wargs?"  
  
"Now, now, Laddie, I'm sure Arwen will understand your taking up with another woman and calling her 'wife'..." Gimli shot back.  
  
"Gimli, if you ever breathe a word of this in Arwen's presence, so help me, by Valar, I'll have you and your entire family close shaved!" Aragorn threatened, bending to stand nose to nose with Gimli.  
  
"Are ye a wee bit jealous of me beard, Aragorn?" Gimli, stretching up to meet Aragorn's stare, "I can understand, with your own being so small and mine so long and thick!"  
  
Gandalf pulled the two apart, whispering, "Enough! Must I knock some heads together? You will antagonize the guide. She doesn't seem to be right in the head, and I fear the consequences! Just let us humor her."  
  
Sheepishly, Aragorn and Gimli nodded, and as they hurried to catch up with the rest of the group, Aragorn asked Gimli, "What do you suppose 'autographs' are? She said I'm supposed to sign them. And what would be a photo? Why would I wish to take it? "  
  
"I don't know, Laddie. You'll probably know them when you see them, though."  
  
Walking through the archway that cut through the castle, the Walkers were amazed to see that the sides of the arch were covered in intricately laid tile. The mosaic pictured what could only be themselves!   
  
"Look Sam! Here we are crouched on the side of Mt. Doom with Golem! And this is Merry and Pippin riding on the broad branches of Treebeard! Look at Aragorn commanding the Elf archers at Helm's Deep! And Gandalf riding Shadowfax!" Frodo exclaimed, rather out of breath.  
  
"Amazing, Mr. Frodo! Look here, it is Legolas bringing down the Oliphant at Minas Tirith! And Boromir...why are there so many arrows stuck in Boromir?" Sam asked, looking at Frodo. They both turned to look at Boromir, who had stepped up behind them.  
  
"Must be some error...I'd be dead!" Boromir gave a halfhearted chuckle, but paled a bit.  
  
"Come along now," sang the tour guide, "We've got a lot to see yet and not much time!" 


	3. Around The Riverbend

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. If I did own them, I would be sunning myself on some tropical isle with a frozen drink and my own thong-wearing cabana boy. But I don't, and I'm not. Now I've depressed myself.  
  
Chapter 3 Around the Riverbend  
  
Clearing the arch from Minas Tirith, the group passed over a small stone bridge that spanned a narrow, sparkling brook. The guide stopped and again faced the Walkers.  
  
"Welcome to Rivendell!" she trilled, sweeping her arm across their line of sight.   
  
Small, thatched huts formed a square, interspersed with many fountains shooting pastel colored sprays high into the air. Arches of flowers and several wrought-iron fenced gardens were spaced between the huts. In the center of the square was a bejeweled and beribboned carousel whose brightly colored horses pumped up and down to a rather tinny, though catchy, tune. Everything in sight seemed to have been coated with several layers of glitter.  
  
"Milady, again, I'm afraid there must be some mis-..." Legolas began, but Aragorn's hand clamped over his mouth before he could finish his sentence.  
  
"Shhh, Legolas! Don't get her started again. Remember what happened before? We'll be here all day!" Aragorn said through clenched teeth, smiling and nodding at the guide.  
  
All the Walkers kept smiling and nodding, each privately thinking that the poor guide must be several arrows short of a quiver to think that this could possibly be Rivendell.  
  
"Gods, look at the horses! They've been impaled!" whispered Legolas to Aragorn, rage filling his eyes. "What devilry is afoot here?"  
  
"Calm, Legolas. Look closer...they are not real horses, but carved ones!" Aragorn said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Though what use carved horses who only run in a circle can be, I cannot fathom."  
  
Legolas turned, unable to watch the impaled, although fake, horses turn round and round in their macabre dance. Unfortunately, that put him belly to nose with Gimli.  
  
"Laddie!" Gimli said raising an eyebrow at the rather prominent bulge in Legolas' silver lame' leggings, "tis true what they say about Elves!"  
  
Legolas thought he could probably treat Gimli to the same fate as the horses, but the guide called to him before he could act.   
  
"Legolas, you'll be pleased to know that, since Rivendell is home to the Elves, this is where you will be stationed. You'll probably be set up right here in between the "Ye Olde Shoemaker's Shoppe" and the "Santa's Toy Shoppe," the guide said brightly, pointing to a spot between two of the thatched huts.   
  
"What is a Santa?" asked Legolas, perplexed.  
  
"You know, Santa...the fat jolly old elf? The one the other elves make toys for? At Christmas?" The guide frowned at the blank look on Legolas' face.  
  
"A FAT Elf?" Legolas asked, raising one elegant brow, "toys?"  
  
"Just smile and nod...smile and nod," Aragorn whispered, pushing Legolas' head forward and back with his hand.  
  
"Good, well, let's proceed!" the guide warbled, motioning for them to follow.  
  
Taking the fork to the left, the guide led them out of Rivendell. They walked for a while down a pleasant enough path, until they came to a stop before a giant wooden gate. Above the gate was a burned wooden sign that read "Beware All Who Enter Here," and below that, "Fangorn Forest."  
  
"Fangorn Forest is built as a maze. There is a trick to it, though. Always take the path to the left when you come to a fork. This will lead you right out. Of course, NEVER tell the guests about the trick! We wouldn't want them to miss out on the fun of getting lost!" the guide warned, wagging her finger at them.  
  
"Gandalf, wouldn't letting people get lost on purpose be a bad thing?" asked Pippin.  
  
Gandalf shrugged, "One would think so, Little One. At least, I've never found being lost to be very enjoyable. But, taking into account the very bizarre things we've seen thus far, the people here might very well enjoy it. "  
  
The guide led them into the maze of Fangorn Forest. All around them they could hear bizarre bird calls and growling noises, prompting Aragorn and Boromir to brandish their rubber swords, Gimli his plastic axe, and Legolas to swear at the arrows still stuck in their quiver.  
  
"Good job getting into character!" cried the guide, clearly pleased. Aragorn and Boromir looked rather disgusted as their sword blades twanged back and forth uselessly. Legolas looked frustrated as he danced in a circle trying to unleash his arrows from their quiver.  
  
The guide led them deeper into the maze. The canopy of limbs and leaves above them blocked the sunlight and made the inside of the maze very dim.  
  
"Gimli, this is where you will work," the guide said, pointed to the base of a very large tree. "Since you have an axe and all, we thought the forest would be the perfect place for you! We'll have six other dwarves stationed in this area with you, of course. Do you know how to whistle? It's very important, since you'll be whistling quite a bit as you work. You'll also have to interact with Treebeard, here," she said, pointing to a nearby tree.  
  
"Whistle? WHISTLE? What the devil are you talking about, woman? I've had quite about enough of this nonsense. No self-respecting dwarf would be cavorting about in a forest WHISTLING! For that matter, no dwarf in his right mind would be in Fangorn Forest at all! And what do you mean 'Treebeard?' If I swung my axe anywhere NEAR Treebeard, I'd likely be stomped flat! Besides, this is not Treebeard! This is not even a real tree!" Gimli was beside himself, unable to hold it in any longer.  
  
THUWNK! Boromir knocked Gimli on the head with his rubber sword. "For the love of all that's holy, Gimli, calm yourself! This place is no worse that the others. Stop antagonizing her! Or are you a very small, very hairy idiot?"   
  
Gandalf quickly stepped between the two, effectively blocking Gimli from launching a full out attack on Boromir's knees.  
  
Suddenly, the tree that the guide had been pointing to spoke. "I AM TREEBEARD. WHO DARES ENTER FANGORN FOREST? RUN LITTLE ORCS, RUN!" the tree shouted in a very deep, loud, rather grating voice.   
  
Shocked, the group turned as one to stare open-mouthed at the tree. Huge plastic eyes had opened on the trunk, slowly turning left to right, while the 'mouth' opened and closed. One branch on the right side of the tree lowered slowly, while another on the left side of the tree raised.  
  
The Walkers could do nothing but stare with open mouths.   
  
"What in the name of Arda is THAT?" they asked in unison.  
  
" Treebeard," the guide replied. "I just told you that."  
  
"Treebeard? Old friend, is that you?" asked Gandalf, peering up the plastic trunk.  
  
"I AM NOT A TREE...I AM AN ENK," Treebeard groaned, his limbs creaking.  
  
"Of course, I KNOW that. What are you DOING here? What's that matter with your LIMBS? For that matter, what's the matter with your EYES?" Gandalf began to get upset.  
  
"Gandalf," whispered Legolas, "I do not think this is Treebeard, anymore than that was Minas Tirith or Rivendell."  
  
Gandalf looked stricken, and backed up a step or two from the tree, shaking his head.  
  
"Well, look at the time!" the guide said, shaking her head, clearly displeased. "We've spent all together too much time just getting to Fangorn. Now we won't have time to tour the rest of the park! You'll all have to find out everything you can about Mordor, Isengard and The Shire later. We have to hurry to get you in your places before the guests are let into the park!"  
  
" 


	4. Poor Unfortunate Souls

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or its characters, or a giant themepark. I'm poor. There, I've said it. The good news is, if I'm sued, all they can get is my pencil with the broken lead.  
  
Chapter 4 Poor Unfortunate Souls  
  
"Gimli," the guide said, flashing him her high wattage smile, "You stand right here, next to Treebeard. The guests will be sent into Fangorn in small groups. When they reach you, push this button," she continued, pointing to a large red button on a small panel hidden in a nearby bush. "This will activate Treebeard. When Treebeard has finished speaking, you should say something like, 'I am Gimli, son of Groin. Heed Treebeard's warning and leave this place!"   
  
"It is GLOIN - son of GLOIN, not GROIN!" Gimli shouted, his face nearly purple with fury.  
  
"Very good! But be sure to tell the guests to run, so that they will be gone before the next group arrives. And wave your axe around, too," the oblivious guide said, smiling cheerily.  
  
She motioned for the rest of the group to follow her, and set off at a trot, leaving a sputtering Gimli behind.  
  
Gimli continued to rage, greatly insulted by the slur on his father's name. "Groin, she says. GROIN! The wench would not be so careless in my presence if I had me real axe! She would show more respect of the mighty name of Gloin when I visited me axe on HER groin! Groin, indeed! Miserable, witless, warg-ugly tart! Worse than an Elf, that one!" He stomped about in a circle, frustrated at his inability to strike back at the insult.   
  
Hearing movement coming in his direction, he ducked behind Treebeard. A few moments later, a group of six short men trouped up to the plastic Enk. They were all clad as Gimli was, in brown tunics and leggings, plastic helmets, and carrying plastic axes. All except one had white beards haphazardly glued to their chins. One wore wire-rimmed glasses.  
  
"Dis here is da place," spoke the glasses wearing Dwarf to the others, motioning toward Treebeard. "We're supposed to meet up wit anudder guy here."  
  
Looking around, a second Dwarf giggled, and said, "I don't see anyone. Come out, come out where ever you are!"  
  
"I'm getting really tired of these games, Melvin," said a third Dwarf to the second, yawning. "I had a real late night with that brunette from the Mordor Cafe. I'm not about to be playing hide and seek with some little pansy who's too scared to come out of the bushes."  
  
Gimli stepped out from being Treebeard, newly infuriated by the Dwarf's comments.  
  
"I know not what a 'pansy' is, but I don't much like the sound of it!" he growled facing off with the sleepy Dwarf.  
  
"Hold on, pal...he didn't mean anything by it. He's just cranky. Don't pay him no attention. I told him if he don't get enough sleep he's gonna get sick, but does he listen? Noooo!" said the glasses wearing Dwarf, stepping between Gimli and the sleepy Dwarf. "Knock it off, Irving!" he said, giving the sleepy Dwarf a little push backward.  
  
"What? You think you're a doctor, now or something, Herman?" Irving said. "Look," he said, addressing Gimli, "I'm sorry, okay? Let's not get off on the wrong foot. "  
  
"If that be an apology, I suppose I will accept it," Gimli said almost graciously.  
  
"Good!" said yet another Dwarf. "I really hate working this kind of job when people aren't getting along. It's bad enough that they stuck me here in the Forest, what with my allergies and all." As if to illustrate this point, he let out a mighty sneeze. "I'm Frank. And that guy over there is Simon," he continued, pointing to a Dwarf standing a few feet away who was staring intently at his shoes, "he's a little bashful."  
  
"Whoaaa, dudes!" spoke up the beardless Dwarf, "Like, we still got some time before the show starts, and like, we should light up a fattie and, like, get mellow..."  
  
"Rodney, ya know you'll get fired if ya get caught doing dope onstage. Do ya wanna lose your job, ya moron? Do ya?" asked Herman, smacking Rodney upside the head.  
  
Rodney sat on the ground, dazed. "Whoaa, dude! Not cool."   
  
Melvin looked down at Rodney, covering his mouth with both hands, and giggling.  
  
"Is he a half-wit?" Gimli asked Herman, hooking his thumb at Melvin. "Methinks he is a bit TOO happy."  
  
Melvin stopped laughing, put his hands on his hips, and looked at Gimli. "My, aren't we grumpy, today."  
  
"You ever work a gig like this before?" Irving asked Gimli, changing the subject. Seeing the blank look on Gimli's face, he continued, "It's a piece of cake. The guests come up this path and Ol' Treebeard goes into his routine. Then we shake our axes at 'em, and move 'em on out. It's really easy. You'll get the hang of it in no time."  
  
"Places, people! Places!" the giggly Dwarf sang, clapping his hands, "It's ShowTime!"  
  
"Eru, help me," whispered Gimli. He clutched his axe, and waited.  
  
" 


	5. He's A Tramp

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant themeparks. I do own all the books and movies, and have BEEN to a themepark...does that count? I suppose not...  
  
Chapter 5 He's A Tramp  
  
Legolas stood stock still, studying the square before him. Shortly after being shown by the tour guide exactly where he should be standing (between Santa's Toy Shoppe and Ye Olde Shoemaker's Shop), and told exactly what he should say ('Good morn, milady/my lord', or 'Welcome to Rivendell', or 'What be your name lad/lass'), the square called Rivendell began to fill with workers.  
  
None of them, as far as Legolas could tell, were dressed the way he was. The other workers were dressed in bright colored silk or brocade tunics and leggings, or, if they were female, long, swishing dresses of equally bright color. Legolas was extremely self-conscious in his silver lame' costume, especially after Gimli's lewd comment earlier in the day. To top it off, before the guide left, she had placed some sort of woven wire circlet on his head.  
  
"Since you are royalty, you must wear a crown!" she had piped cheerfully. "You can leave the crown here at this counter tonight before you leave."   
  
The headpiece gave him a headache. He never liked to wear a crown at home, because he felt it was pretentious. Not to mention that it drew every royal-obsessed, male-hungry female in heat within 10 miles. Put this new crown together with the far too revealing costume, and Legolas was sure he was in for trouble.  
  
"Hi! You're new here aren't you?" asked a feminine voice.  
  
Legolas turned to see a short, chubby, dark haired girl approach from his right. She seemed harmless enough, and her smile seemed genuine, unlike the tour guide.   
  
"I'm Sue," she said, holding out her hand.  
  
"I am called Legolas," he replied, looking at her outstretched hand. Not completely sure what she intended him to do to her hand, he did what he would have done at home...he picked it up and kissed it.  
  
"Oh my gawd! You are really good! The guests are gonna eat you up!" she twittered, completely flustered by the genteel act. "Are you wearing contact lenses? I've never seen anyone with eyes that color before! Is that wig on tight enough? Every woman in the park is gonna want to run her fingers through that hair!" she went on breathlessly.  
  
"I know not what contact lenses are or what a wig is, Milady. My eyes and hair are simply what they are," Legolas replied, raising his brows and taking a short step back from the girl.   
  
"Oh my gawd! You mean you really LOOK like this? ALL THE TIME? Oh my GAWD!"   
  
"Sue?" called a voice from within the doorway of Santa's Toy Shoppe. "You need to get in here to get ready to open!"  
  
"Mary, come here quick! You have got to see this!" Sue shouted.  
  
A taller, slightly older girl ducked out of the Shoppe and jogged over to where Sue stood, still staring at Legolas.   
  
"What?" she asked Sue a little impatiently. "We're late already."  
  
"Meet the new Legolas," Sue said without taking her eyes off him.  
  
"Nice to meet..." Mary's voice trailed off when she got a closer look at Legolas. "Oh my gawd!"  
  
"OH MY GAWD!" they screamed in unison, clutching each other's hands and jumping up and down.  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes at the squealing teenagers. "I knew it," he thought, "I just knew it."  
  
"Girls!" shouted a masculine voice from the doorway of the Shoppe. "Where are you? I need help with my padding, and someone's gotta help lace up my boots! And I can't find my hat! The guests will be here any minute!"  
  
"Over here, Mark!" the girls cried, still staring at Legolas.  
  
The most unusually dressed man Legolas had ever seen walked out of Santa's Shoppe. He was short, and very, very round. He was nearly bald, but had a fluffy white beard and eyebrows. Thick pillows were strapped around his middle. His red velvet pants were tucked into black boots whose laces trailed behind him. He carried a coat that matched his pants over his arm.  
  
"For the love of Mike, ladies, let's get going!" Mark said, approaching the trio. "I can't be half dressed when the rugrats get here. Whoa...who's this?"  
  
"I am called Legolas."  
  
"Well, Snookems, I need the girls back now. But you are a pretty package," Santa said, eyeing Legolas up and down. "Nice pants. Say, how about you and me grabbing a latte after work?"  
  
"He's not gay, Mark," huffed Sue. "You aren't gay, are you?" she asked Legolas. "Please say you're not gay."  
  
"I am often happy, though at the moment I am a bit uncomfortable. This crown..." He was cut short when the other three burst out laughing.   
  
"Not HAPPY gay...GAY gay," Mary snickered. "You know, guys who like other guys?"  
  
"I have many male friends of whom I am quite fond. Aragorn, for example..." again Legolas was cut off by laughter.  
  
"Not FRIENDS...Lovers! God, where have you been living...in a cave? Gay guys have sex with other guys," Sue explained.   
  
Mark was grinning and looking at Legolas in a very lascivious way.  
  
"Have...sex...other...men...with..." Legolas stuttered, blushing to the roots of his platinum hair, glancing at Mark.  
  
"Oh my gawd! He's so cute when he blushes!" Sue cried, gazing adoringly up at Legolas.  
  
Legolas stopped short for moment, as a thought struck him. "How many women work in Rivendell?" he asked Mark.  
  
"Oh, I guess about one hundred," replied Mark, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"And how many gay men?" asked Legolas.  
  
"Only 5 that I know of...there may be more. I don't know everyone, you know," answered Mark. "Why?"  
  
Legolas looked at Mary and Sue, who were batting their eyes at him and nearly drooling.  
  
"One hundred versus 5...I like the odds," he thought.   
  
"I am gay. I am most definitely gay. I could not possibly be any more gay. And I have a...lover," Legolas said with a straight face.  
  
"Damn it! I just knew it! All the good ones are either married or gay!" Sue cried, obviously extremely disappointed. "Well, we better get Mark dressed," she said reluctantly. "Bye, Legolas."  
  
"Farewell," he replied. As the girls and Santa walked off, a small smile graced his face, as Legolas congratulated himself on avoiding what could have been a very annoying situation. "Gay..." he thought, "I'll have to remember that when I get home."  
  
"  
  
" 


	6. I Just Can't Wait To Be King

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant themeparks. I do own a fairly good sense of humor, and I hope the owners of LOTR and giant themeparks do too.  
  
Chapter 6 I Just Can't Wait To Be King  
  
Aragorn stood with his back against the stone wall of Minas Tirith, fingering the hilt of his useless sword. The guide had told him that the woman who would play Arwen would be there momentarily.   
  
"I cannot believe I've allowed myself to get involved with this," he thought. "I cannot possibly look dignified. Thank the gods Arwen decided to stay behind to oversee the reconstruction of the city. This place looks nothing like home, these people are all truly insane, and this robe is hotter than the pits of Mordor. And, no matter what Gimli thinks, there is nothing wrong with my beard! At least, Arwen has never complained..." He shifted his shoulders within the velvet fuschia cape.   
  
He turned to see a young female elf coming toward him. She was dressed in a deep blue gown with very long, flaring sleeves. Long dark hair hung down her back, held by some sort of twisted wire headband. Not very pretty, by Elf standards, she had a mole on the lower part of her jaw, her eyes were slightly crossed, her nose was crooked, and she seemed to have only one eyebrow. It ran straight across her forehead. She also had the most enormous bosom Aragorn had ever seen. It bulged out of the top of her low cut gown, threatening to burst it at the seams.   
  
"Oh no...please Eru, not her," Aragorn thought.  
  
"Hi," the girl said in a throaty voice. "You must be Aragorn. I'm Phyllis. I'll be playing Arwen today."  
  
"Egads...um, I mean, hello," Aragorn replied, his eyes drifting down to her bosom.   
  
"Well, at least you fit the part of a king!" she said, looking him up and down. "You fill that robe out admirably."  
  
"Thank you, milady," Aragorn said to her cleavage. He forced his eyes to move up to her face. "You look...um, healthy."  
  
"Thanks...I guess," she answered hesitantly, raising her unibrow.   
  
Aragorn's eyes suddenly widened as he looked at her pointed ears. "Milady! Your ear! 'Tis falling off!" he gasped.  
  
Phyllis reached up and ripped off the pointed tip of her left ear. "Damn it! They didn't glue them on right again. They do this all the time." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small tube. Spreading a few drops of spirit gum on the tip she stuck it back on her ear. Aragorn blanched, clutching his chest.  
  
"What's wrong? Isn't it on straight?" she asked.   
  
"I...I...I may be ill," he said, covering his mouth with one hand.  
  
"Oh, no you don't," Phyllis replied, poking a finger at his chest. "If you're sick, you should have called out. I'm not about to get sick from kissing you."  
  
"Kissing? Me? YOU?" Aragorn paled further. "I think not! I cannot give you what you seek."  
  
"You can't, huh? Have you read your contract? You want to get fired? You'll kiss me whenever the guests ask for it, or you'll be out on your royal keister, mister. Look, they're letting the guests in now," she flamed, grabbing his arm. "Try to look royal, will ya? And stop staring at my boobs."  
  
Aragorn looked out toward the front of the park. A mass of humanity was swarming his way.  
  
"'Tis an army! We'll be overrun!" he shouted as he whipped out his sword. The blade drooped over in the heat.  
  
"Put that thing away and take my arm, you ninny. Just stand here with me and smile, damn it!"  
  
A look of panic froze on Aragorn's face as the first of the guests arrived.  
  
"Oh, look Billy, it's Allgone and Armen!" gushed a heavy woman dressed in a tube top and shorts.  
  
"Jeez, Mom, it's ARAGORN and ARWEN...get it right, okay?" said the young boy. "You always get the names wrong."  
  
"Don't be rude, Billy. Just because I can't remember all names the way you can. I haven't watched the movie sceighty eight million times, you know," the woman replied testily. "Now go stand over there with them and let me take your picture."  
  
Billy slouched over to stand between Aragorn and 'Arwen'. He looked up at Aragorn and sneered, "You're the worst Aragorn I've ever seen. How did you ever get this part? You don't look anything like him."  
  
Aragorn looked down at Billy and patted him on the head. Hard.  
  
"Big smiles everybody!" the fat woman called, holding a camera up to her eye.  
  
FLASH!  
  
"ARGHHH!" cried Aragorn throwing his hands over his eyes. "The witch has blinded me!"  
  
"Get over yourself!" Phyllis hissed. "Put a guy in a robe and he thinks he's Sir Ian McKellen! You're not that good an actor. Stop trying to hog the scene!"  
  
Slowly, the spots before Aragorn's eyes began to disappear. Determining that his eyesight was not permanently damaged, he gave a forced smile. "I swear by Arda, and all that I hold dear," he thought to himself, "when this horrible day has ended, I am going to find something sharp and run this woman through!" He looked down at the ever growing line of people waiting to see him. "If I survive, that is," he thought. 


	7. What's This?

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant themeparks. I do own a slightly used husband, and a few teenaged children who are paper-trained. Perhaps we can make a trade?  
  
Chapter 7 What's This?  
  
Frodo and Sam sat across from each other at a table in the employee break room. The first half of their first day on the job had not gone very well, and they were both a little irritable. This was their first break of the day, and they were already very tired, and very, very hungry.  
  
On the table between them, on a small paper plate, lay a single, round, chocolate covered cake. The very LAST chocolate cake in the break room. Frodo and Sam looked at each other, then at the cake, then back at each other again.  
  
Suddenly, they both lunged for the cake at the same time. Frodo's hand was just a half-second faster than Sam's and clamped down over the cake just under his.  
  
"Come on, Mister Frodo. Give me the Ring Ding. I gave you the last bit of lembas in Mordor when we were starving to death!" Sam whined.  
  
"The Ring is MINE," Frodo growled, his gigantic blue eyes boring into Sam's eyes.  
  
"I don't want to eat it, Mister Frodo...I just want to hold it for you," Sam pleaded, making the most innocent face he could summon. "Oh, who am I kidding...of course I want to eat it! Give it up, Mister Frodo!"  
  
"No! You don't understand, Sam. The Ring is mine alone! It would destroy you!"  
  
"I hardly think this particular Ring will destroy me, Mister Frodo. It may give me a pimple or two, perhaps, but I think I can manage," Sam sneered, trying to remove Frodo's hand from the Ring Ding.  
  
"No!" Frodo cried, snatching the cake from the table and stuffing it all into his mouth. He sat back from the table with a smug look on his face, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.  
  
"Damn it, Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, banging his fist on the table, "You know, I'm getting a wee bit tired of this subservient nonsense now. I've been kissing your hairy Hobbit butt for a long, long time, and it's going to end here and now!" Sam's face reddened with anger as he looked at Frodo insolently chewing. "You know, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have gotten ten feet from the Shire. There I was, fighting off spiders, stabbing Orcs, and rolling about with Golem and where were you? Lying about, feeling sorry for yourself!"  
  
"Go-um bit my fin-er auff," Frodo said through a mouth full of cake.  
  
"Oh, boo-hoo. It wasn't the whole finger anyway, just the tip. You've already got everyone thinking you saved the world all by yourself...what more do you want?"  
  
Frodo swallowed, then sighed, "You're right, Sam. I've behaved badly. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Sorry? That's what you always say! Well 'sorry' won't get back that Ring Ding, will it? "  
  
Frodo's enormous blue eyes filled with tears. "I really am sorry, Sam. I just don't know what got into me..."  
  
"Oh, enough with the tears, already! The crying act is wearing a bit thin, Mr. Frodo," Sam said disgustedly.   
  
"Wahhhhhh! Wahhhhh!" Frodo began to wail, tears spurting from his tremendous eyes like geysers.  
  
"Stop already! You'll drown us both!" Sam cried. "Alright, alright, you win - again. Let's get back to work, okay?" Sam shook his head, giving in.   
  
"Thanks, Sam," Frodo smiled, his tears drying instantly.  
  
The two Hobbits walked back onstage into Mordor, where they had been stationed. Mordor actually looked quite a bit like the Mordor back home, except, of course, for being much, much smaller. A rubble strewn path led through the heart of it, surrounded by bubbling pools of a red lava-like substance which, periodically, spurted jets of flame. A black cardboard cutout of a mountain stood in the background, presumably Mt. Doom. It smelled a lot more like the real Mordor than the Hobbits would have liked - a combination of wet garbage and brimstone.  
  
Frodo and Sam took their places next to a huge rock near one of the lava pools, trying very hard not to trip on the rubble with their huge plastic feet.  
  
"I still do not understand why we have to work here, of all places," Frodo moaned, holding his nose. "They have a Shire...why couldn't we be working there?"  
  
"I really don't know, Mr. Frodo. I DO know that I'll not get this stench from my nostrils for a fortnight, at the least! Urgh...smells like burning warg hair."  
  
"Precioussssss."  
  
Frodo and Sam forgot all about the awful smell, and looked at each other in fright.  
  
"Noooo, it couldn't possibly be...he fell into the fires of Mt. Doom!" Frodo cried, grasping Sam's lapels and shaking him fiercely.  
  
"Precioussssss."  
  
Frodo and Sam grasped each other in a death hold, clinging for dear life as someone approached in the smoky gloom.  
  
A little, withered old lady walked up to them, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Aren't you just PRECIOUS! Why, I could eat you both up! Let me pinch those sweet cheeks!" She grabbed Frodo and Sam by the cheeks with her thumb and forefingers, swinging their heads back and forth. "Why you are both just the cutest things I've ever seen! I didn't know they let children work in the park!" She finally let go and continued on her way.  
  
Rubbing their cheeks, Frodo and Sam looked bewilderedly at the old woman's back as she made her way out of Mordor.  
  
"I'd really almost rather have had it been Golem," Frodo said.   
  
Sam simply nodded in agreement. 


	8. God Help the Outcasts

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant themeparks. I would LIKE to own them...are they for sale? How much? Oh...that much. Ouch.  
  
Chapter 8 God Help the Outcasts  
  
"Lay down."  
  
"This is insane!" Boromir cried, trying to intimidate the other man by going nose to nose with him.  
  
"Lay down."  
  
"I will NOT lay down, and you can't make me!"  
  
"Lay down."  
  
"I will NOT LAY DOWN! I am NOT dead...I am standing, breathing, very much alive, RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!" Boromir screamed. He was wearing a vest to which a number of arrows had been glued. He looked rather like a large, angry porcupine.  
  
"LAY...DOWN. We say you're dead, so you're dead! You got shot by Orc arrows. You...are...DEAD. Period. End of discussion. Fini. Got it?" the other man asked, poking Boromir in the chest with his index finger emphasizing each word. "Lay down, close your eyes, and don't say a word."  
  
"For the love of Arda..." Boromir heaved a great sigh and lay down on the ground, arrows pointing up to the sky.   
  
"You just lie there and behave yourself. The guests will file past you on the way to Isengard. This little sign here says, "Here lies Boromir, shot by Orcs." The guests will snap a picture, and continue on. You've got the cushiest job in the park!" The man laughed as he walked away.  
  
"I am going to kill Aragorn when next we meet," Boromir thought to himself, picturing the many wonderful, inventive ways he could accomplish this. "This is all his fault! 'We need gold to fix Minas Tirith, Boromir,' he says. 'We can earn a lot working in that new park, Boromir,' he says. 'Your father really screwed up Minas Tirith and you owe me, Boromir,' he says. Now look at me...laying on the ground like yesterday's lembas. Why couldn't he bring Faramir instead? Faramir NEVER has to do ANYTHING - the spoiled little brat! I always get snookered into things like this. Yes, I am DEFINITELY going to kill Aragorn when I see him. Very slowly." Boromir closed his eyes, and soon fell fast asleep.  
  
"Boromir....Boromir, wake up!," someone whispered urgently. Boromir opened one eye to see Legolas bending over him.   
  
"Legolas? I thought you were in Rivendell," Boromir asked, looking confused. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"You have to help me...you have to hide me! They'll be here any minute! I barely out ran them!" Legolas whispered, anxiously looking back down the road.  
  
"Hide you? You're an Elf...you're not afraid of anything! Hide you from whom?" Boromir sat up on one elbow, looking down the road, baffled.  
  
"From THEM! I told them I was gay, but they started to chase me, all the while yelling that they could CHANGE me!" Legolas was beginning to babble.  
  
"Change you into what? Let me get this straight. You told someone you were happy and they started to chase you? And you ran from them? An Elf?" Boromir raised an eyebrow at Legolas. "What exactly are these creatures you run from?"  
  
"GIRLS! Lots and lots of them. An ARMY of them! Screaming, clawing, crying, drooling...ARGHHH!" Legolas shuddered. "It was awful, Boromir...absolutely dreadful! They kept pawing at me...touching me...I couldn't stop them! And I didn't say I was happy...I said I was gay! There is a difference here, believe me. But it didn't matter to them! Hide me!"  
  
"Calm down, Legolas!" Boromir didn't understand any of this, but Legolas was more upset than he had ever seen him. "Duck behind that tree back there," Boromir motioned to a tree far off the path. Legolas lightly jumped over Boromir and made a beeline for the tree. "Can you see me?" he asked from behind the tree.  
  
"No," answered Boromir.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive," Boromir said, rolling his eyes.  
  
Boromir lay back down on the ground, closed his eyes, and put his ear to the ground, his senses alert. Within moments, he heard the thundering sound of many feet at a fast run.  
  
Peeking through his eyelashes, Boromir saw a giant cluster of females galloping up the road. They paused just in front of him.  
  
"Is it him? Is it?"  
  
"Let me through - let me see!"  
  
"I call dibs!"  
  
The herd of girls looked over at Boromir. "Awwww. It's only Boromir. Damn, where did Legolas go?" one of the girls lamented.  
  
"Boromir was kinda cute, in a scruffy, barbaric sort of way..." said one girl, peering down.  
  
"He's dead, remember? I think dating a dead guy is illegal in this state," said another.  
  
"Damn. Well, Ol' Leggy couldn't have gotten too far. Let's go!"  
  
The herd moved off at a fast trot, toward Isengard.  
  
"Barbaric. I'll give them barbaric, all right," thought Boromir. "I'm considered quite the catch, back home. And I AM NOT DEAD!"  
  
"You can come out now, Legolas," Boromir said, rolling over and looking at the tree.  
  
:"Are you sure they're gone?"  
  
"Yes. And just you wait until I tell Gimli about this."  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" Legolas cried, coming out from behind the tree.  
  
"THERE HE IS!" shouted a female voice.   
  
"NOOOOOO!" screamed Legolas, taking off like a shot back toward Rivendell.  
  
The herd thundered past Boromir mere seconds later.  
  
Chuckling to himself, Boromir thought, "You know, that man was absolutely right. I DO have the cushiest job in the park!" He closed his eyes and fell back asleep. 


	9. Following the Leader

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. "Yes, you do. " "No I don't." "Yes, you do." "NO I DON'T!" Excuse me, it's time for my medication.  
  
Chapter 9 Following the Leader  
  
Gandalf stood in the backstage area of Gondor, where he could barely glimpse the towers of 'Minas Tirith' over the wooden wall that surrounded it. He had spent the better part of the day in Isengard, where he had been forced to have bright lights flashed at him, over and over again, while a long line of tourists held small boxes up to their faces. Worse, he had had to share the stage with another actor who had insisted on calling himself Saruman.  
  
"I AM Saruman. I am quite possibly the best Saruman you will ever have the good fortune of working with! Have you never been to the movies, my good man? "The Creeping Flesh? The Three Musketeers? Dracula Prince of Darkness? No? How about 'Curse of Frankenstein?' 'The Mummy?' 'Sleepy Hollow?" No? What about 'Airport 77?' 'Brides of Fu Manchu?'"  
  
Gandalf had had to rap him on the head several times with his staff before the man would shut up.  
  
Shortly after lunch (which had been something called a tuna sandwich and chips), he had been called out of Isengard and brought to the backstage area of Gondor.  
  
A dark haired man holding a clipboard walked briskly up to Gandalf. "Alrighty then! Gandalf, you'll be leading off the parade today! Usually Saruman leads off the parade, but he's out sick with a headache. You'll be riding on float number 1, the Shadowfax float."  
  
"Shadowfax does not float. He gallops. Perhaps you are thinking of the Eagles?" Gandalf said, trying to be helpful.  
  
"Eagles? Like in football?" asked the man, quite perplexed.  
  
"Eagles do not have feet. They have talons. I've never had the opportunity to observe their nether regions, though I assume they must be equipped since they do reproduce."  
  
Gandalf used one finger to close the man's dropped jaw.  
  
The man shook his head as if to clear it. "No, there are no Eagle floats in this parade. Now, it's very easy. All you have to do is stand at the top of the float, and smile and wave. Got it?"  
  
"Smile and wave." Gandalf looked rather disgusted. "That's all I've been doing all day...smiling and waving! It's becoming rather tedious."  
  
"Look, I have to position the other performers. Are we good with this, or not?" The man was getting snippy.   
  
It had been Gandalf's experience that, in this place, when people got snippy, one was often subjected to long and tiresome lectures. He decided to tell the man what he obviously wanted to hear.  
  
"I am sure all will be well, young man. Smile and wave...I understand completely."  
  
"Good. The parade steps off at 3 o'clock. Be ready!"  
  
Gandalf stood waiting, watching the other parade performers gather. There were several Elf archers, a few horse riders bearing the flag of Rohan, and a rather large group of Hobbits wearing big plastic feet. Gandalf looked over the Hobbits, but did not see Frodo, Sam, Pippin, or Merry.   
  
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Gandalf caught movement. Whirling around, his robes flaring, he cried, "LOOK OUT! 'Tis an ORC!"  
  
Brandishing his staff, he began beating the Orc about the head and neck.  
  
"Oww! Oww!" the Orc cried, bending and trying to get out of the line of fire. "Are you insane? Stop that, it hurts!"  
  
"Back to the fires of Mordor, demon!" thundered Gandalf, chasing after the Orc, and smacking it with his staff.   
  
The Orc reached up and pulled off its head. Gandalf brought himself up short, and gasped, his eyes bulging from their sockets.  
  
"My gods! The beast has swallowed a young woman!" he cried, seeing the girl's head peeking out from the body of the Orc. "Never fear, milady, I will save you!"  
  
"Take one more step toward me, you wrinkled up old prune, and I'll take that staff of yours and shove it so far up your gluteus maximus that you'll walk funny for a month!" the young woman cried.  
  
"But, milady..."  
  
"Don't 'but milady' me! What's wrong with you? Are you nuts? Do you know how fast I could get your scrawny butt fired for this?"  
  
"But, milady..."  
  
"Enough with the 'milady' chauvinistic bullcrap! What's the matter? You don't think a woman can play this part?" the girl advanced on Gandalf, and began poking him with her finger.  
  
"You think I'm too DELICATE?" Poke. Poke.  
"You think I'm too FRAIL?" Poke. Poke.  
"You think I'm too WEAK?" Poke. Poke.  
  
Gandalf fell over on his rear. Looking up at the furious girl, he said, "Milady, I think not an Orc in Middle Earth would stand a chance with you." 


	10. I'm Late, I'm Late

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I wish they would stop sending me their electric bills.  
  
Chapter 10 I'm Late, I'm Late  
  
Merry and Pippin stood looking in at the entrance to The Shire. Children screamed and ran about, causing Pippin to cringe whenever one got too close.  
  
"I don't want to go back in there, Merry. Please, can't we just hide somewhere?" Pippin begged, trying to tug Merry back. "We could find a nice, quiet closet and wait until they've all gone. No one will miss us..."  
  
"Pippin, we have to work...we signed that contract thingy, remember? Come on, Pippin, it's not so bad..."  
  
"Not so bad? Not so BAD? How can you say that, Merry? If I have to sing that blasted song one more time, I may truly lose what little mind I have left! " exclaimed Pippin. "I won't do it! I won't!"  
  
"I thought it was rather catchy, myself...'It's a world of laughter, a world of tears, a..."  
  
"STOP THAT!" Pippin shouted, putting Merry in a headlock. "I can't stand it anymore! I'd rather be roasting in the belly of the Balrog than hear that song one more time!"   
  
"All right, Pippin, all right, I'll stop! Just let me go," Merry said, his voice muffled from under Pippin's armpit. Merry straightened up, and looked Pippin in the eye. "I'm sorry, but we have no choice, Pippin. We have to go back in." He turned and began to walk back into The Shire.  
  
Pippin sighed and reluctantly followed Merry dragging his big, hairy, plastic feet. He kept his head down, hoping not to be noticed by the screeching urchins who had overrun this section of the park.   
The Shire looked nothing like Pippin and Merry's home. Here, the round 'homes' were actually stores where vendors sold shirts, plastic elf ears that were attached to headbands, and plastic feet. Carts were placed here and there selling food and trinkets.   
  
The Party Tree was a misshapen, sickly looking thing strung with tiny lights, half of which didn't light. It stood in the middle of a very bizarre contraption, the likes of which the Hobbits had never seen. Oversized teacups circled round and round the tree. People would sit in the teacups, twirl round and round, and then throw up. Merry and Pippin could not understand why people seemed so anxious to stand in line to get on the thing.   
  
There was a stage set up in the middle of The Shire, and this was where Merry and Pippin were heading.   
  
"Come on Pippin, don't dawdle!" Merry called over his shoulder.   
  
Pippin picked up his pace, and promptly tripped over his big plastic feet, falling on his face.  
  
"Pippin! Stop fooling around. We're late!" Merry dashed back and to help Pippin up.   
  
Pippin stood up and found himself standing face to face with a little girl of about six. The adorable little girl was dressed in a cute little blue dress, and had matching ribbons in her red hair. Pippin forced a smile at the darling child.  
  
The little girl looked at Pippin. She reached out and started yanking on his pointy ear.  
  
"Gimme! Gimme! I want it! I want it NOW!" she shrieked.  
  
"OWW!" Pippin yelled, trying to pull away from iron grip of the little girl.  
  
"Pippin, come on! Stop wasting time!" Merry grabbed Pippin's arm and started pulling him in the opposite direction.  
  
"Gimme! Gimme!" cried the little girl, pulling harder on Pippin's ear.  
  
"Pippin, come on!" Merry yelled, pulling even harder.  
  
Abruptly, the little girl lost her grip on Pippin's ear and sat down firmly on her rump. Merry and Pippin went flying in the opposite direction.   
  
"Oof! Get off of me Pippin!" Merry cried from under Pippin's rear.  
  
Clutching his ear, Pippin climbed to his feet and hissed, "I'm going to hurt her, Merry. I am going to hurt her A LOT!"  
  
"We're Hobbits, Pippin. We don't hurt children," Merry replied, getting up and dusting himself off.  
  
"We can make an exception."  
  
"Come on, we're really late, now," Merry said, leading Pippin by the arm toward the stage. Pippin kept turning around and shooting dirty looks at the little girl, who was still sitting on the ground, screaming her head off.  
  
They climbed the stage and joined several other Hobbits already waiting there. The air filled with the familiar strains of that irritating song and the Hobbits began to sing, bobbing up and down, lifting their hairy, plastic feet in time with the music.  
  
"ARGHHHHHH!"  
  
The Hobbits song was cut off by a scream. Everyone turned to watch something silver flash through the Shire. The silver flash was soon followed by a screaming mass, which seemed to be all arms and legs, and moving incredibly fast. Both were gone in a moment.  
  
"Was that Legolas?" Merry asked Pippin.  
  
"I don't know, it was moving too fast."   
  
The Hobbits faced the audience and began to sing again.   
  
" 


	11. The Three Caballeros

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I also do not own a decent watch, which explains why I'm still writing at midnight.  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The Three Caballeros  
  
Aragorn sank onto a bench in front of his locker, legs splayed, arms hanging down, head drooping. "I don't remember the last time I felt this weary," he thought to himself. "Well, perhaps when I fell off of that cliff just before the Helm's Deep battle...but this runs a close second." He groaned as he bent down to take off his boots.   
  
He looked up as the door to the dressing room opened. Gimli stepped through, dragging his plastic axe behind him. He plopped down on the bench next to Aragorn, letting his axe fall to the floor.  
  
"Laddie, all day I have been wishing for the moment we next met, so that I might visit upon you a major thrashing for getting me into this work...but I'm too spent. Remind me on the morrow to thrash you good."  
  
"Gimli, my friend, it would be unwise to begin picking at me. You could not possibly know what I have been through these last eight hours!" Aragorn feebly waved his hand in Gimli's direction.  
  
"No? YOU have not spent the entire day in the company of six humans who think they are Dwarves, and who insist on whistling in your ear for hours at a time! Dwarves, indeed! Their beards kept falling off! Tell me, what type of Dwarf has not a real beard?"  
  
"Ha! YOU didn't have to spend the day pretending to be in love with the Wargwoman of Gondor!   
  
Oh, I'm sorry, Laddie. I can see you're upset," Gimli replied sarcastically. "I shouldn't be bringing up beards to you, should I? Considering how short you fall in that particular area..."   
  
"Arghh! That does it! I've taken all the abuse about my beard that I'm going to take from you - you hairy little lump of warg dung!" Aragorn yelled. He threw his arms around Gimli to tackle him, but didn't have the strength to follow through. The two of them simply rolled off the bench and lay on the floor.  
  
"Do ya mind getting off me, Laddie?" asked Gimli faintly, as he feebly waved his arms from beneath Aragorn. "You smell like a dead Oliphaunt."  
  
The door to the locker room opened again. Aragorn looked up from the floor to see Legolas walk in.   
  
"Legolas! Sweet mother of Arda, what happened to you?" Aragorn asked from the floor, shocked at the way Legolas looked.  
  
"Legolas? Is it the Elf?" came Gimli's muffled voice from somewhere under Aragorn's midsection.  
  
"Gimli?" asked Legolas, looking around the room. "Where are you?"  
  
"Under here. Aragorn, will you please GET OFF ME?"  
  
Aragorn grunted as he rolled off of Gimli. They both sat up on the floor and stared at Legolas.  
  
Legolas was indeed in a sorry state. His face was caked with mud, his long, platinum hair was a mass of tangles and twigs, and his silver lame costume was ripped in several places and missing a sleeve altogether.   
  
"I...I...oh Eru, I..." Legolas couldn't seem to form words. "  
  
"Take a breath and start again, Laddie," counseled Gimli.  
  
Legolas leaned back on the lockers and slowly slid to the floor with a long, drawn out sigh. "It was awful! Those girls! Those horrible, grabby, pushy, females! They chased me all through the park! No matter where I hid, they found me. I hid in a barrel, but they found me! I found a janitor's closet and hid in there for a while, but when I came out of the closet, they found me again! And chased me...AGAIN!" He began to bang his head on the locker. "THEY (bang) WOULD (bang) NOT (bang) LEAVE (bang) ME (bang) ALONE (bang)!"  
  
Smirking, Gimli said, elbowing Aragorn in the ribs, "Elf, methinks you complain too much! Would that I have had your job, I'd not have run too fast!"  
  
Aragorn snorted in amusement. "I think YOU'D be the one doing the chasing, Master Dwarf!"  
  
"Aye, Laddie, Aye," Gimli agreed. "So, what do we do now?"  
  
"There is a conveyance that will bring us to our rooms the park has provided, but I was told by the guide this morning that it will not pick us up until the park closes tonight. That leaves us several hours yet."  
  
"Well then, we might as well get out of these garments. Mayhap we can find something wet to wash our throats while we wait," Gimli said. "After this day, I could truly use a pint or three!"  
  
Amid much groaning and grunting, the trio changed back into their shorts and tee shirts. Legolas went into the washroom to clean up as best that he could. Gimli and Aragorn followed him in and stood there waiting as he began to pull the twigs out of his hair.   
  
"What be these shiny white basins?" asked Gimli, rapping on the nearest sink. "And those others on the wall over there?"  
  
"Oh, they are works of genius! I hid in one of these rooms today, and a very nice man explained them to me." Legolas replied. "He then invited me to go 'clubbing,' though I'm not sure what it was he intended to club. Regardless, what he said was that you turn this thingy, and water comes out!" he said as he demonstrated.  
  
"Oooooh," Aragorn and Gimli said.  
  
"Those others on the wall are...um...well, think of them as bushes."  
  
"Bushes?" Aragorn asked, with a befuddled look on his face.  
  
"You know...bushes...think of what you usually do near bushes in a forest."  
  
"EWWWW! They do that INSIDE? On PURPOSE?" Aragorn questioned, wrinkling his nose.  
  
"What?" Gimli asked, looking up at Aragorn, "you've never used a bucket?" He began to chuckle. "I can just picture you running out on your courtyard in your nightdress to the nearest bush!" Even Legolas cracked a smile at that mental image.  
  
Legolas finished cleaning up as best he could, which wasn't very well. He still looked as if he'd been dragged behind his horse.   
  
The trio walked out into the main building. Just past the costuming department they came to a room from which delicious aromas wafted.  
  
"Might be they have food in here," Gimli surmised, sniffing the air with his oversized nose.   
  
Legolas looked at the sign hanging over the entrance. "Starbucks," he read. "I like the sound of that. Stars and bucks...it reminds me of Mirkwood."  
  
The three went inside and walked up to the counter. At their approach, the attendant looked up from filing her nails.  
  
"Hey," she said dully.  
  
"No, thank you. I have not my horse with me," Legolas replied. "Do you not sell anything edible for humans, elves, and dwarves?"  
  
"Huh?" she asked, looking confused.  
  
"Food and drink, lassie!" Gimli impatiently butted in, smacking his hand on the counter. "Something strong that'll put the iron back in me backbone!"  
  
"Oh," the attendant said, backing up a step or two. "Okay...three Venti coffees with triple shots, coming up. Anything to eat with that? Scones, expresso brownies...?"  
  
"SCONES!" the three shouted, finally hearing a word that they understood.  
  
"Be right up," the attendant said.  
  
Shortly, the attendant placed three large paper cups and three paper wrapped cakes in front of the trio. "That'll be $18.75,' she said, holding out her hand.  
  
Legolas sighed, then picked up the girl's hand and kissed it.  
  
"Um, thanks. But it's still $18.75."  
  
"I understand," Aragorn said. "The guide gave me this little square thing this morning. She said whenever we needed to make a trade in a store, we should use it," he explained holding out the small square of plastic.  
  
"On your company charge?" the girl asked, taking the card and swiping it in the register. She handed it back to Aragorn. Turning to Legolas, she asked, "So, Blondie, are you busy later? Want to go clubbing?"  
  
"I'm afraid I must decline, milady. My presence is required elsewhere," Legolas replied, taking a step back and looking as though he were ready to bolt.  
  
"I'm always up for a good clubbing," Gimli said to the attendant with a leer. "What did ye have in mind to club?"  
  
The attendant looked down at Gimli's rather lumpy face framed by his unkempt and knotted hair and beard, and grimaced, backing away from the counter.  
  
"Come on, lassie...do not let me size fool ye. I pack a wallop if I do say so meself."  
  
The attendant covered her mouth with one hand, making gagging noises.  
  
"Come along, Gimli. Leave the poor girl alone," Aragorn said, pulling Gimli along by the ear.   
  
The three walked over to a table with their purchases, and sat down. They took the lids off of their cups and sniffed the contents.  
  
"Strange smelling ale," Gimli said, wrinkling his nose. "Who serves ale HOT?" He shrugged and said, " Well, bottoms up, lads!"   
  
They sat, draining their triple shot coffees and eating their scones in relative silence. After a while, Aragorn started to wiggle about in his chair.  
  
"'Tis funny, but suddenly the weariness has left me. I feel...fidgety," he said. He got up and began to pace about the store.   
  
"Aye," agreed Gimli, joining Aragorn in his pacing. "I feel I could fight off a troupe of orcs!"  
  
"Mustwalkmustwalkmustwalkmustwalk," Legolas mumbled, joining the other two.   
  
The trio left Starbucks, pumped up on caffeine, and headed back into the park. 


	12. You've Got A Friend In Me

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme park. If I said I did, would you believe me? I think not.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
You've Got A Friend In Me  
  
"Ooooh, my aching feet!" Frodo complained as he and Sam walked back from Mordor toward the front of the park. Frodo and Sam looked completely exhausted as they dragged their big plastic feet down the path.  
  
"Remind me to flog Aragorn when we get back. This is all his fault," Sam added, groaning as he rubbed his cheeks, which were turning a lovely shade of purple. "My cheeks will be sore for a month after all that pinching!"  
  
"I know," commiserated Frodo. "Why are old women so enthralled with pinching our cheeks? I swear by Eru, tomorrow I am going to start pinching back!"  
  
Sam stopped and stared a Frodo. "You mean to say that we have to do this AGAIN? Noooo."  
  
The Hobbits continued limping down the path, until they came upon a figure lying prone in the grass, off to the side of the path.  
  
"Boromir? Oh, no! Oh, poor, poor Boromir!" Frodo cried, dropping to his knees at the sight of Boromir lying prostrate on the ground, arrows protruding from his chest. "He's dead! They've killed him!" Frodo's eyes began welling up with tears.  
  
"Dead men don't snore, Frodo," Sam said. Picking up a stick, Sam began to poke Boromir. 'Wake up! WAKE UP, you lazy son of a warg!"  
  
"Huh...what?" Boromir opened his eyes and sat up, yawning and stretching. "Is it raining?"  
  
"No. Frodo's crying again. Knock it off, Mister Frodo - he's not dead," Sam proclaimed, turning the stick on Frodo.  
  
"Why does everyone keep insisting that I'm dead? I'm starting to get a complex!" Boromir said disgustedly. "What time is it?"  
  
"Time to leave this place...our shift has ended."  
  
"You can stop poking me now, Sam," Frodo said, trying to dodge the stick.  
  
"Well, that wasn't so bad a task..." Boromir stretched and yawned again. "I didn't even have to break a sweat all day!"  
  
"Lucky, lucky you. WE had to endure physical torture at the hands of shriveled old women. Therefore, I'll thank you to get up and get moving!" Sam yelled.  
  
"You're still poking me, Sam," Frodo whined.  
  
"I know, Mister Frodo. It's the most fun I've had all day. Want to try it, Boromir? He's rather squishy."  
  
"No, I don't think so - perhaps another time. Right now, I'm as hungry as a bear. Mayhap we should try to find the others and get some food.' Boromir replied, standing and stretching yet again.  
  
"You people are no fun," Sam grumbled, as Frodo snatched the stick from him and tossed it away.  
  
The three began walking down the path again. "Carry me, Boromir?" asked Frodo, reaching his arms up toward Boromir. "My feet hurt terribly!"  
  
"Yes! Come on, Boromir...you didn't have to do squat today but lay on your flabby behind while we had to work! Carry us!" Sam chimed in.  
  
"Are you daft? I'm not carrying you. And my behind is NOT flabby," Boromir retorted, clearly affronted. "I'll have you know that many a maid has commented on its firmness!"  
  
"Riiiggghhht...that's why you've been laying here all day unmolested, while Legolas has been charging about the park chased by hordes of women for the past eight hours. He past us twice!" Frodo giggled. "Come on, carry us!"  
  
"No! I will absolutely NOT carry you, and I'll thank you not to compare me with that prissy Elf! I'm getting sick and tired of hearing 'Legolas this,' and 'Legolas that'...you'd think women had never seen blonde hair on an elf before!" Boromir looked quite disgusted.  
  
"Carry us! Carry us!" the Hobbits screamed, jumping up and down, reaching their arms up at Boromir.  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Please! Please! Carry us!" begged the Hobbits, pulling on his turquoise and orange jerkin. "CARRY US!"  
  
"Oh, for the love of Eru...anything to shut you up!" Boromir exclaimed, exasperated at the jumping, obstinate Hobbits. He bent down and picked them up.  
  
"Is there no end to this indignity?" Boromir asked, looking down at the arrows which protruded from his chest and bobbed up and down with each step. "Stop wiggling about, or I'll drop you on your empty Hobbit heads!" he cried to the giggling, wriggling Hobbits. Walking down the path towards the park's entrance, he held each Hobbit under his arm like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"I'm still going to flog Aragorn when I see him, " Sam said to Frodo from under Boromir's left arm.  
  
"You'll have to stand in line," Boromir said. 


	13. A Spoonful Of Sugar

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. Then again, they don't own ME either, but you don't hear THEM whining...  
  
Giving credit where credit is due...thanks to Koala for the cotton candy idea.  
  
Chapter 13  
  
A Spoonful of Sugar  
  
"I'm still hungry," Gimli complained, walking along side of Aragorn.  
  
Legolas was several paces ahead of them, still jazzed on caffeine. The other two had already experienced a rather sudden and severe caffeine crash, and had slowed considerably.  
  
"You just had a scone, Gimli," Aragorn replied.  
  
"Bah! That little bit of nothing? I'm working up an appetite chasing after the Elf," Gimli said, his short legs doing double duty next to Aragorn. "Can we not just hit him with a rock? That would slow him down. Where are we going, anyway?"  
  
"We're trying to find the rest of the group, remember? We're heading to the Shire to find Merry and Pippin, first."  
  
Legolas finally paused at the crest of hill. The other two caught up to him, and stood there, panting for breath.  
  
"I cannot go down there," Legolas said, looking down the other side of the hill. "I have not the energy."  
  
"Energy for what? It's downhill!" Gimli cried, giving the Elf a push. "I've been chasing your back all this while, you know. And I've told ye before...Dwarves are SPRINTERS!"  
  
"Not for THAT, Master Dwarf," Legolas replied, smacking Gimli upside the head, "for THEM!" He pointed to a gaggle of girls clustered at the bottom of the hill.  
  
"Oh, get over yourself, Laddie! You're not wearing those romance pants anymore, your hair looks like weeds have taken root, and you smell like a warg's backside!" Gimli said, wrinkling his nose and fanning his face. "I don't think any female on the planet will take a second look at you now,"  
  
Legolas managed to look affronted and relieved at the same time.  
  
"Come along, you two," Aragorn called, losing patience. "I want to find the others while we still have light."  
  
The trio trouped down the hill towards The Shire. The girls, being downwind of Legolas, actually moved to the other side of the road to let them pass.  
  
Legolas raised an eyebrow at the ease at which he passed them. "I may never bathe again," he said.  
  
"Oh, you'll bathe, all right, Elf. You're stark raving mad if you think I'm sharing a room with that stench," Gimli retorted.  
  
"You don't smell like roses yourself, you know."  
  
"I'm a Dwarf – a strong personal odor is natural to us."  
  
"Hence why female dwarves are so rare...they're hiding!"  
  
Reaching The Shire without further incident, Aragorn turned to the other two and said, "Let us spread out and start looking for the Hobbits. We'll meet on the other side of The Shire."  
  
"All right, Laddie. But give me that square thing ye used to barter for the ale and scones...I may see some food somewhere along the way. I'm wasting away to nothing!" Gimli said, holding out his hand to accept the card.  
  
Leaving the other two, Gimli rambled down the right hand side of The Shire, looking into every little person's face he saw, seeking Merry and Pippin. Unfortunately, since the majority of people in The Shire were children just the Hobbit's height, he didn't get very far very fast.  
  
"Bah! I'll be at this all night at this rate. I need sustenance NOW!" he thought to himself, after the twentieth person he spun around to look at turned out to be six years old.  
  
He spotted a cart off to the side of the road that was surrounded by people eating some bright colored foodstuff held in a cone. Sauntering up to the cart, he stood very close to one person and nonchalantly, for a Dwarf that is, sniffed at the cone of fluff. His nose came away with a ball of pink fluff stuck to it.  
  
"Mmmm. Smells better than salt pork!" he thought. Stepping up to the window of the cart, he raised his arm and waved the company charge at the attendant, trying to get his attention.  
  
"Is your Mommy or Daddy with you, little girl?" asked the attendant, looking down at the top of Gimli's head.  
  
"Little girl? LITTLE GIRL? Are you daft, man? You think I look like a little girl?" Gimli shouted, giving the cart a swift kick.  
  
The attendant jumped back at the deep voice that issued from the short redhead in front of the cart. "Oh, um, sssorry sir! Here you gggo, nnno charge..." the attendant stuttered, handing Gimli a huge cone of pink cotton candy.  
  
"Little girl, indeed!" Gimli harrumphed, grabbing the cone from the attendant. He walked away from the cart, his face buried in the soft pillow of pink.  
  
Aragorn walked down the center of The Shire, intent on spotting Pippin and Merry. He noticed the preponderance of children here, which led to thoughts of Arwen and the child they someday hoped to have.  
  
Coming to the Party Tree, he stood for several moments watching the spinning tea cups, smiling at the obvious joy in the faces of the children whirling about in the cups. The ride slowed to stop with a bright green cup stopping just in front of him. A little boy staggered from the cup, and promptly threw up on his shoes. Not on the little boy's own shoes – on Aragorn's shoes.  
  
"Ugh!" Aragorn yelped, jumping back out of the line of fire. He managed to avoid most of the mess, but his brand new, company issued tennis shoes had not escaped completely.  
  
"I just cannot win this day," he thought, scraping his shoes against the grass. "Arwen had best make sure OUR child comes equipped with a stopper!" he reasoned, as he walked in a wide circle around the boy, who still stood swaying in one spot, and continued on his search for the Hobbits.  
  
Legolas leisurely strolled down the left side of The Shire, looking for the Hobbits. It was the first time all day that he hadn't had to be on guard against rabid females, and he was truly enjoying himself. He hardly noticed the raised eyebrows and wrinkled noses as he passed by.  
  
He was passing several open fronted tents at which people were trying their luck at games. Watching with interest as he walked, he saw people throw balls at hoops, use a fascinating contraption to spray water at targets, and pitch rings at bottles. His attention was caught, however, by one particular booth, and he stopped to observe the process. Several people were shooting arrows at targets, which hung on the back wall of the booth. "These people shoot as though they've never held a bow before," he thought, shaking his head.  
  
"You, sir! How about having a try? It's only one dollar to play!" the booth's attendant asked Legolas, beckoning him over.  
  
"I think not, kind sir, I've not the dollar you require," Legolas answered.  
  
"Awww, come on, you must have a dollar...I'll tell you what - I'll give you a free try, and if you win, you get a prize AND you don't have to pay! How's that?" the man persisted, thinking it was a sure bet that this bedraggled, long haired young man would never hit the wall, never mind the tiny targets placed there. "Of course," the man said, still trying to convince Legolas to play, "if you win, you get to keep shooting to win more prizes!"  
  
"Well, I haven't shot a bow in the longest time..." mused Legolas, thinking it was true. He HAD gone the longest time EVER, having not shot a bow since he started work that morning.  
  
"Great! Step right up!" the man grinned happily, offering the bow and an arrow to Legolas.  
  
Legolas lifted the bow, frowning at the flimsy craftsmanship, quickly fitted the arrow and let it fly. The arrow sank neatly into the tiny bullseye of one of the targets.  
  
"Lucky shot!" the man said under his breath, thinking for certain that it couldn't happen twice. "WINNER, WINNER, WINNER!" he shouted, looking to attract a crowd. He placed a stuffed hobbit and a small pile of arrows on the shelf in front of Legolas.  
  
ZZZIIIPPP. Legolas let fly another arrow directly into the bullseye of another target. The man's eyes popped - no one EVER won twice in a row! "Winner, winner, winner," he cried, though much more softly than the first time.  
  
ZZZIIIPPP. ZZZIIIPPP. ZZZIIIPPP. Three more bullseyes. Legolas was getting bored.  
  
"I really must be about looking for my friends," he said to the attendant, who stood gaping at the show of marksmanship. "I'll just finish up these arrows and be on my way." Legolas picked up the last three arrows, fitted all three in his bow at once, and let fly.  
  
"Thank you for you kindness. This has meant a great deal to me,' Legolas said, picking up the pile of stuffed animals in his arms. He walked off, leaving the attendant still staring openmouthed at the three arrows, all firmly stuck in the bullseye.  
  
"Aragorn!" piped two voices from behind the empty stage just beyond the teacups. "Aragorn!" Merry and Pippin flung themselves about Aragorn's middle, hugging him desperately.  
  
"Is it time to leave? Please say it's time to go!" Pippin cried, his voice muffled against Aragorn's tee shirt.  
  
"Yes, Little One, it is time. We just need wait for Legolas and Gimli, then we can be off to find Frodo, Sam, Boromir, and Gandalf."  
  
Pippin's eyes widened as Legolas rounded the corner, his arms brimming with stuffed animals. He walked up to the trio and smiled, his face nearly hidden behind the pile of toys.  
  
"By Eru!" Legolas said, dropping his pile of stuffed animals on the ground, 'what happened to Gimli?"  
  
The group turned around to see Gimli walking toward them. At least they thought it was Gimli. His entire head, neck, and beard were covered in bright, pink fluff, with a long paper cone stuck upside down to the top of his head. What little of his face could be seen did not look happy.  
  
"I was looking for the wee ones here," he said, motioning to Merry and Pippin, "but there was a youngster blocking me way. I asked him to move -very nicely, mind ye – and...well...I'll tell ye one thing, Lads," he growled, "when someone here tells you to bite them...don't you believe them!" 


	14. Be Prepared

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks, even if the voices in my head say otherwise.   
  
Once again, Credit to the Worthy: Thanks to Blue Autumn Sky for the Balrog idea!   
  
Chapter 14 Be Prepared 

Gandalf was gingerly climbing down from the high platform of the Shadowfax float, his robes gathered up with his left hand so as not to trip him. Unfortunately, Middle Earth had as yet to discover the importance of underwear, and Gandalf was providing quite a show for the rest of the parade performers.

"Hey, old guy! Will you PLEASE cover up that sagging, wrinkled moon before you blind us all?" someone in the crowd begged.

"It's like a car accident...I don't want to look, but I can't seem to help myself," said one young woman to another. "Is that his...EWWWWW!"

Finally getting to the ground, completely oblivious to the stir he had caused by airing his personal property, Gandalf made his way through the crowd back to the costuming building. He found his locker and, having changed back into his shorts and tee shirt, decided to go back to the park to look for everyone else.

He was halfway to The Shire, when he saw Aragorn, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, and some pink fluffy fellow coming up the path. He didn't recognize Gimli until they were very close.

"Gimli," Gandalf asked, raising an eyebrow, "What on earth happened to you?"

"Don't ask," Gimli muttered.

"It looks funny, but it's quite delicious!" chirped Pippin, trying to suck a piece of candy off of Gimli's hair.

"It melts in your mouth!" chimed Merry, attacking the other side of Gimli's head.

"STOP THAT! Stop trying to lick me head clean...it's undignified!" cried Gimli, swatting the Hobbits away.

Gandalf turned to Aragorn and asked, "have you seen the others?"

"No...we just found Merry and Pippin. I believe Frodo and Sam were stationed in Mordor, but I don't know where they stuck Boromir...Gimli! Stop beating on the Hobbits!" Aragorn yelled, pulling Gimli off of Merry.

"Tell the little furballs to leave my beard alone! They're yanking out hair along with that sticky stuff!"

"You could do with a trim," Aragorn replied, eyeing the shaggy bush that grew from Gimli's chin.

"Oh, so you want to talk about beards, again, Laddie? Perhaps I'll just parade mine around in front of Arwen when we get home, and we'll see fast she goes running back for yours!"

"LEAVE MY BEARD OUT OF THIS!" Aragorn thundered.

"Aragorn," Legolas said, putting his hand on the King's shoulder and distracting him from pummeling Gimli, "Someone's coming."

"What do your Elven eyes see, Legolas?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas made a scornful face, "They're only twenty feet away, Aragorn. I'm sure you can see for yourself."

"Oh."

Looking just ahead, Aragorn saw Boromir walking up the path toward them, carrying Frodo and Sam under his arms.

"That's it! Ride's OVER!" Boromir shouted, unceremoniously dumping Frodo and Sam onto the ground.

"Frodo! Sam! Boromir!" Merry cried, jumping up and down. Pippin joined him, and before long all four Hobbits were gleefully bobbing up and down like corks.

"Enough, Laddies...you're making me seasick!" Gimli said, turning a bit green under all the pink.

The Hobbits calmed down after a few moments, with only one or another bobbing sporadically. "Why do you have so many arrows sticking out of you, Boromir? Shouldn't you be dead?" asked Pippin, flicking one of the arrows with his finger.

Before Boromir could get his hands around the Hobbit's neck, Aragorn said, "What do you think we should do now, Gandalf? We still have time before the conveyance arrives to take us to our rooms for the night."

"Perhaps we should sample some of the exhibits here. I have heard many people speak of something called 'The Balrog Blaster. Anything that would blast a balrog sounds good to me.'

"What type of exhibit is it, Gandalf? I wouldn't want to go to see a REAL Balrog!" Frodo said nervously.

"Nothing here seems real, Frodo, but it is best to be prepared for anything!" Gandalf replied, starting to walk down the path.

"Wait a moment...aren't the Hobbits and I going to change our garments, also?" asked Boromir, seeing the others in their shorts and tee shirts.

"We haven't time if we wish to see this Balrog Blasting thing," Aragorn replied. "You'll just have to make the best of it."

"Besides, those frocks look so lovely on you!" Gimli quipped, ducking around Gandalf before Boromir could reach him.

The group set off for the attraction, which was located between Mordor and Isengard. As they neared the area, they began to spot small signs along the road.

"Welcome to the Misty Mountains." "Beware the Balrog," "Turn Back Now." "This Is Your Last Warning." "Riders Must Be 48" To Experience This Attraction."

"I don't understand that last one," said Sam, looking quite puzzled. I know not what those little marks after '48' mean. Must one be 48 years to ride? The only ones able to go to this exhibit will be Gandalf, Gimli, and Legolas!'

"Don't worry, Laddie. We'll get you in somehow!"

Shortly after, The Walkers found themselves standing before an oddly shaped mountain. It looked like a mountain, being covered in rocks, and scrubby plants, but it was far too symmetrical to be a natural formation. At the base of the mountain was an archway, over which hung a sign that read: "Speak friend, and enter." Leading up to the archway was a very, very long, zigzagged line of people.

"Great Eru! Are all these people waiting to enter the mines? It will take us all night to get through this line!" Aragorn exclaimed, gesturing toward the horde of humans.

"There must be some other way. Come, we will speak to the attendant at the entrance," Gandalf replied.

As they neared the entrance, Legolas caught hold of Gandalf's arm. "I know this man!" Legolas said, spotting the short, very round man standing near the arch. "His name be Mark, also known as Santa, The Fat Elf!"

"Hey, Snookems!" Mark cried when he saw Legolas. "Whoa, you look...um...well...not like you did this morning."

"So I have been told," Legolas said dryly, shooting a look at Gimli. "Why are you here, Santa?"

"Oh, I pull the morning shift as Santa, but work the afternoon shift here. You guys wanna ride the Balrog?"

"Ride? Yes, we wish to see this exhibit."

"I hate to tell you, but a few of your compadres don't quite make the height requirements," Mark whispered to Legolas, cutting his eyes toward Gimli and the Hobbits.

"Height? Do not worry, my friend, we shall boost them up to see when necessary."

"Huh? Um, whatever. Just make sure they hold on to the lap bars, okay? Go on in. I'll radio ahead that I'm sending in a VIP party."

"Thank you, you are most kind," Legolas replied, leading the rest of the group up through the arch.

"Hey," Mark drawled as Boromir passed him, 'You're a big one! You wouldn't happen to be free tonight, would you? I know a great little Italian place with the best food!"

"Food? I have not eaten all day! When can we get this food?" Boromir replied.

Mark opened his mouth to answer, but Legolas grabbed Boromir's arm and started to drag him away. "I am sorry, Mark, but he is not gay."

"I WOULD be happy after I got some food!" Boromir complained as Legolas dragged him away, struggling to get free.

"I told you before, Boromir, there is a DIFFERENCE!" Legolas leaned and whispered exactly what that difference was into Boromir's ear.

"He does WHAT? To WHO?" Boromir asked, looking over his shoulder at Mark, who winked at him. Boromir thought for a minute, then said, "He would feed me first, right?"

Legolas sighed and pushed Boromir through the entrance to the mines.

"

"


	15. You Can Fly! You Can Fly! You Can Fly!

Disclaimer: I dont own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. Its a good thing, too, because when I die Id have to leave them to my children, and then theyd be fighting over who got which character, and NO ONE would want Sauron or Saruman, and EVERYONE would want Legolas or Frodo, and they would wind up killing each other. So, its just as well that I dont own them.  
  
Chapter 15

You Can Fly! You Can Fly! You Can Fly!

"Stop pushing me!" Boromir yelled, giving Legolas a push back.

:"You nearly made a gigantic fool of yourself back there, Boromir. I was merely saving you from your own stupidity."

"Saving me from filling my stomach, is more like it! You know, you pointy eared pinheads might think that a nibble or two of lembas is enough sustenance, but we humans like to CHEW once in a while!" Boromir snapped, glaring at Legolas.

"That may be why YOU have a belly that flops over your belt, and I DON'T!"

"Are you trying to say that I'm FAT? I am NOT fat. I am big boned!"

"Bones do not jiggle like that."

Aragorn intervened before the argument became a brawl. "Do you think, perhaps, that you two could behave yourselves for just a moment?" he asked sarcastically, pushing the two apart. "By Arda, between you two and Gimli, it is like having children! I may have to speak to Arwen and rethink this entire 'we need to produce an heir' thing!"

"He started it..." Legolas murmured, casting a mean look at Boromir, who promptly stuck his tongue out.

"You are nearly 3,000 years old, Legolas. GROW UP!" Aragorn shouted, shoving the Elf ahead of him in line and effectively separating the two. Boromir smirked to himself and followed the others.

After passing through the arch, The Walkers found themselves in a rocky, rough hewn tunnel (much to Gimli's obvious delight), that wound its way deep within the mountain, and was dimly lit by systematically placed wall torches. Skulls and other bones, covered with cobwebs, were firmly entrenched in the tunnel walls all along the way.

They had walked for only five or ten minutes, when they saw an attendant waiting for them.

"Are you Mark's VIP party?" asked the young woman of Gandalf.

"Aye, Milady, we are, indeed," Gandalf replied, offering her a smile and a small bow. "We are here to blast the Balrog."

"Okay. I'm going to escort you up the single rider ramp, so that you won't have to wait in line. Follow me, please," she said, beckoning them to follow.

The attendant led the group out of the tunnel and up a narrow ramp on to a wide platform. To their right, separated from themselves by a row of shiny metal railings, stood at least two hundred people, each looking at The Walkers as if they would like to strangle them all.

"Why do those people look so angry, Milady?" Frodo asked the attendant, from behind Gandalf's legs.

"You'd be angry, too, if you had to wait in line for two hours, and someone got to cut in front of you," the attendant explained, shrugging her shoulders.

She led them to the front of the platform, where there sat the strangest contraption any of them had ever seen.

Bright red chairs, unlike any they had seen thus far, stood in a double row stretching the entire length of the platform. The chairs all seemed to be attached to each other by metal rods. At the very front of the contraption, the first two chairs were connected behind a huge metal, toothy, horned Balrog head. There were painted flames coming out of the Balrog's mouth and continuing all the way down the sides of the line of chairs.

:"Is this the Balrog?" Gandalf asked the attendant. "It does not look very much like the Balrog. It looks more like Smaug!"

"It's the Balrog, alright," the attendant answered, privately thinking that this old guy must be a few dots short of a yahtzee to think that this sleek new coaster looked like smog.

A deep voice boomed out of nowhere, "Please watch your head and step as you board the Balrog. Keep your arms and legs inside the Balrog at all times."

Hustling the group ahead, the attendant sat each of them in one of the red seats, and pulled down a cushioned bar that pinned each of them in their seat. Gimli and the Hobbits heads barely cleared the bar.

"You five better hold on really tight," warned the attendant. "I don't know what Mark was thinking...you are really too little to be riding."

Before Gimli could respond to the "little" crack, the row of seat began to move. The Walkers' eyes popped, and their jaws dropped, as the row of seats began to chug and huff its way up a steep incline.

"What magic fuels this thing?" asked Merry of Legolas, with whom he was seated. "I see no beasts of burden pulling it...are they invisible? And where are we going?"

"I know not, mellon min. Perhaps you should listen to what that young woman said and hold on tightly."

Further conversation was futile, since, at that moment, the coaster rocketed forward, accelerating to 70 miles an hour in about 30 seconds.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The coaster hit the first loop, shooting upside down and corkscrewing around.

"AHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH!

After the second loop, Boromir was suddenly very glad he hadn't eaten.

The coaster came to a rest at the top of a hill. Gandalf and Frodo, sitting in the front to seats, had an amazing aerial view of the park. Unfortunately, both had their eyes tightly screwed shut, and could not appreciate it.

Just when The Walkers began to relax, the coaster began moving again...backwards.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Finally, after several times through the loops, the coaster came to a stop at the same platform where they had boarded it. The disembodied voice bellowed, "Thank you for riding the Balrog Blaster! Please exit to the left. Enjoy the rest of your day!'

Staggering from their seats, The Walkers moved slowly toward the exit, clutching their stomachs.

"I believe I may have swallowed a bug," Pippin said quietly.

"Eru, help me," Gandalf said, looking positively green. "Fighting the REAL Balrog wasn't as bad as THAT!"

Aragorn felt as sick as Gandalf looked. "I cannot believe that people wait in line to experience that! What type of sick, twisted person would willingly submit themselves to that horror?"

"That was GREAT!" Gimli shouted. "Who wants to go again?"

"


	16. All in the Golden Afternoon

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. _Tolkien in Heaven, having a conversation with Shakespeare: _**Tolkien: **They keep stealing my characters. **Shakespeare:** Why are you complaining? They took Romeo and Juliet, made them gangbangers, then made them sing and dance in streets of New York, no less! At least they give YOU credit! **Tolkien:** You win.

Chapter 16 All in the Golden Afternoon 

"What shall we do next?" asked Frodo, having finally recovered from the stomach-twisting ride on the Balrog Blaster. The Walkers had left the coaster behind, and were standing in a semi-circle, trying to collect themselves.

"I vote that we find a nice, peaceful little pub somewhere and take in a pint. I do not think I can survive another exhibit like the last one!" Gandalf exclaimed, still slightly green around the edges.

"Bah! Some White Wizard...can't even take a little twisty Balrog ride! Me? I could have rode the thing all night!" Gimli boasted, puffing out his chest.

"That attendant warned you that you were too small! YOU, Master Dwarf, would have fallen out if I hadn't grabbed hold of your collar!" Boromir laughed, "and your beard flipped up keeping your face covered almost the entire time!"

"I do not remember asking for your help! How could you help me? YOU were screaming like a wee baby girl up there AND wetting your britches to boot - you hulking, stinking, goblin dropping! Small, indeed!" Gimli retorted, shaking his fist at Boromir.

"'I DID NOT! And, 'tis not MY fault that you are SMALL!" Boromir shouted, his face beginning to redden. "That would be your FATHER'S fault!"

"And 'tis not MY fault that YOUR father turned himself into the Gondor Human Fireball!"

"ENOUGH! We did not have this constant bickering even while on the quest to destroy the ring!" Gandalf thundered. "We are all tired, hungry, and thirsty. Perhaps we should just go and wait to be taken to our rooms!"

"We still have quite a wait, Gandalf," Aragorn said, shrugging his shoulders. "Perhaps there are other exhibits not quite so taxing."

Gandalf sighed, and nodded his head. "I suppose it would be better to keep busy...if we are occupied, they may have less opportunity to bite each other's heads off!"

As they walked the path heading toward Isengard, The Walkers spotted a huge fountain of water gushing up from a small, shallow pool. Children were laughing and playing in the water, splashing each other and having a wonderful time.

"Um, Gimli?" Aragorn said, tapping the Dwarf on the shoulder. "Please do not be offended, Master Dwarf, but perhaps you might consider a quick dip..."

"What are you trying say, Aragorn?" Gimli asked through clenched teeth, looking up at the tall man walking beside him. "The Elf stinks worse than I do!" He was rewarded with a glare from Legolas.

"It is not for that reason, all though you do smell rather ripe," Aragorn explained. "But you still have that pink fluffy stuff stuck in your hair, and you are beginning to draw flies," he continued, swatting at the annoying buzzing insects encircling Gimli's head.

"Yes! Come on, Gimli...just a quick dunk! Those flies bite!" Sam chimed in, showing Gimli his arm, which was covered with small welts. "You stink so badly, that they won't bite you...they keep coming after us!"

"Into the drink, Gimli!" Boromir put in, giving the Dwarf a push in that direction.

The other eight Walkers formed a line, and began herding Gimli toward the fountain.

"Alright! Alright!" Gimli cried, putting his hands up in front of him. "Back off, the vile lot of you! I'll do it in me own good time!"

Gimli turned around and stomped toward the pool, muttering to himself all the way. Mothers who saw him coming quickly grabbed their children away.

He stood at the lip of the pool, looking at the water cascading down from the fountain. "Oi! The humiliation! Dwarves and water are mismatched at the best of times!" Cautiously, he stepped over the lip and into the ankle deep water, letting the sprays rain down on his head. Luckily, the pink fluff disappeared as soon as the water hit it. Within moments there was no trace of cotton candy left in Gimli's hair or beard.

"There, it is gone! Are you satisfied, you lot of vipers? Would be that YOU might do with a washing, as well, you know!' he shouted, giving the group a withering look. "The smell on the lot of you could drop a Nazgul at 50 paces!"

Frodo looked at Pippin, Merry and Sam. "It does look rather inviting, doesn't it?" They all grinned at each other, then took off running toward the pool. Gimli's eyes widened as the Hobbits stampeded toward him.

"Wheee!" The Hobbits cried as they landed in the water, knocking Gimli down on his rump. Soon they were splashing each other, and Gimli, laughing like children.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Gimli asked Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir, a grin spreading on his face. "Are ye too _timid _to come in?"

The others walked slowly toward the pool. Aragorn looked at Gandalf and Boromir, who simply shrugged. "I suppose it would be good to wash off some of the stink..." Soon enough, Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir were rolling about in the fountain with the others.

Legolas stood before the fountain, watching the others frolic in the water. "What are ye waiting for, Elf?" Gimli called, "an engraved invitation? You need this more than ANY of us!"

"It would not be dignified for an Elf to...to cavort in public!" Legolas replied haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. Boromir reached out, grabbed hold of Legolas' tee shirt and hauled him into the pool.

Eventually, Gandalf realized that they had drawn a crowd of spectators. Clearing his throat, he arose from the pool with as much dignity as possible, straightened his tee shirt and stepped out. The others followed suit soon enough, each shaking their head free of water like so many Irish Setters. They walked to a more secluded area to try to dry off.

"I must admit, Laddies, that did feel good!" Gimli said, deftly ringing out his beard.

"I wish we had seen the fountain earlier," Sam put in, holding one of his big plastic feet upside down to drain out the liquid. "You fellows were beginning to make my eyes water!"

Legolas smiled and nodded in agreement, pulling his fingers through his silky locks. Freezing, he began to pale as he felt all over his head with his fingers. "Oh, no! The twigs...the mud...the knots...its all gone!" he moaned. "Is there none left, Boromir?"

"Not a trace, Elf. You're as clean as a whistle!" Boromir said, cracking a broad grin, suddenly catching on to what Legolas' problem was. "And you might wish to know that those wet shorts and shirt are worse than those silver breeches you were wearing earlier!" Boromir burst out laughing, prompting Aragorn, Gimli, and the Hobbits to join in. The seven were nearly rolling on the floor at Legolas' discomfort.

"Why is this a problem, Prince of Mirkwood?' inquired Gandalf, looking confused. He was sitting in the fading sun trying to dry his long beard and hair. "You were always the cleanest one on our Quest...I barely saw you with the barest smudge on your cheek, even after battle! One would think you would be delighted to be back to your old self."

"It seems, Gandalf," Aragorn said between snorts of laughter, "that our young Elf has had a bit of a problem with the ladies, today!"

"It is NOT funny, Aragorn!" Legolas cried, hands clenched at his sides.

"Oh, yes it is, Laddie! It could possibly be the funniest thing I've heard in me life!" Gimli roared with laughter at Legolas' expense. "Though what those females see in you is beyond my ken! Your kind are much too tall, thin, and hairless for any Dwarf woman to take notice!"

"Luckily for me, since they all look like YOU!" Legolas scathingly replied, staring down at Gimli.

"Calm yourself, Legolas. I'll see what that shop across the way has to offer. Perhaps we can find something to conceal you," Aragorn said, still snickering, jogged over to the souvenir shop across the way from them.

A short while later, Aragorn returned, carrying several bags with him. He opened one bag and pulled out a huge floppy purple hat adorned with large plastic sunflowers. He plopped it on Legolas' head. Opening the other bag, he took out a dry pair of shorts, and a tee shirt, which read, "Princess-in-training."

"My apologies, but this was all that they had..." Aragorn said, trying to keep a straight face.

Legolas made a disgusted sound, grabbed the clothes, and quickly ducked behind a tree to change.

"There we go! No woman will possibly take an interest in you now!" he said when Legolas returned.

"Hannon le," Legolas said, pulling the brim of his hat down as far as he could over his head.

The Walkers began strolling down the path again. No one told Legolas that the back of his rather short shorts said, "Hot Stuff."

"

'

"


	17. Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life For Me

****

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I am channeling Tolkien right now. Seriously. "SIGN OVER OWNERSHIP, NOW!" That wasn't methat was Tokien. Honestly. You heard himsign it overI'm waitingdon't make me channel him again. I hate channeling. It itches.

Chapter 17

Yo, Ho! A Pirate's Life for Me

As the Nine Walkers made their way past Isengard, they came to a low, white stone building, roofed with Spanish tiles. The Walkers looked at each other, trying to determine whether or not they should investigate.

"It looks agreeable enough," Gimli offered, looking thoughtful and stroking his beard. "There be no bones or skulls, or little signs warning us away"

"I want to go!" cried Pippin, eager for a rest from all the walking they had done.

"Me, too!" piped Merry, Sam and Frodo. Their short Hobbit legs had had to work twice as hard as everyone else's, especially Frodo and Sam, who were still wearing those big hairy, plastic feet.

"I suppose we can use a bit of a restbut if there is ANYTHING in this building that goes upside down, we are NOT staying!" Gandalf conceded, wagging his finger at the Hobbits.

The Walkers approached the building, peering in the darkened entrance. Entering, they followed a whitewashed, stone hallway that led downwards in a spiral. Here and there were placed big metal tubes on wheels, with large metal balls piled next to them. In a little roped-off room, there was a chest with an abundance of shiny gold objects spilling out of it. The Walkers didn't understand any of it, but gamely continued on.

Eventually, they came to the end of the hallway, and walked out on a small dock that jutted out over a narrow river. Floating in the water next to the dock, was a small-scale boat with four long rows of seat, but without sails. An Attendant stood at the edge of the dock, waiting to help them board the boat.

"Where does this boat go?" Legolas asked the Attendant, peeking out from under his huge, floppy purple chapeau. "Not to ValinorI am not ready, yet."

"No, ma'am, you will come out just on the other side of the building" the Attendant replied, raising his eyebrows at the hat.

Gimli let out an enormous snort. "Ma'am? MA'AM? Legolas, have ye joined the other side?"

"Shut up, Gimli," Legolas retorted, giving Gimli an elbow to the side of the head.

"Youll need to board now, if you want to experience this attraction. We'll be closing soon," the Attendant said, inadvertently aborting another potential argument. He motioned for the Walkers to take a seat.

"Young one," Gandalf asked, resting his hand on the Attendant's arm, "speak the truththis exhibit will not turn me upside down, will it?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then we will proceed."

The group piled into the boat - five in one long seat, and four in another. The boat pulled out smoothly, sailing slowly down the river in a tunnel.

"That Attendant was overly interested in your rear end as you boarded the boat, Legolas" Gimli, smirking, called from the front row.

"He was NOT!"

"Yes, he was. He thought you quite fetching in that hat."

"You are asking for a thrashing, Dwarf!"

"He was practically drooling. I believe he called you, Hot Stuff," Gimli concluded, causing the other seven Walkers to collapse into fits of laughter.

"I hope you can swim, Master Dwarf, because I am going to pitch you over the side of this boat!" Legolas cried, his face blushed crimson. Leaning forward, he yanked on the back of Gimli's bushy hair.

"Ahhh," Gandalf interrupted, sighing and leaning back in his seat, "this is a much better conveyance than the last."

The boat sailed under an arch, and the tunnel became dimly lit. A thunderous voice suddenly bellowed, "DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES"

"Of course dead men tell no tales," Aragorn spoke to the disembodied voice, "they're dead!"

"The ghosts of the men of the mountain spoke, Aragorn," Legolas reminded him.

"He did not say GHOSTS tell no taleshe said DEAD MEN tell no tales. There is a difference," Aragorn said petulantly, lifting his nose in the air. "I should know. I'm the one who convinced the ghosts to fight, after all. I"

"We know, we know," Frodo said, interrupting Aragorn, and rolling his eyes. "You WILL suffer MEand all that malarky. If you tell that story one more time, Aragorn, I will be sick."

"Hmmph! As if we're not bored silly every time you decide to give us a blow by blow description of fighting Gollum on Mt. Doom!"

"and then he bit my finger off!" shouted Aragorn, Legolas, Gandalf, Gimli and the other Hobbits in a chorus.

"I thought everyone enjoyed that story" Frodo pouted, slouching down in his seat.

The boat sailed into a cavernous space, right between two enormous ships.

"These ships are bigger than those that sail the Elves across the sea!" Legolas exclaimed, looking up at the mighty sails. "I wish Lord Elrond could see this!"

Suddenly, thunderous explosions sounded, and water began to splash up along the sides of the boat, as if heavy objects were being tossed into the river.

"DOWN! DOWN!" Aragorn and Legolas shouted, throwing themselves to the bottom of the boat.

The Walkers flattened themselves to the bottom of the boat until it had sailed out of the cavern and away from the booming ships.

Peeking over the side of the boat, Gandalf declared it safe to sit up.

"THAT IS IT! Between having lights flashed in my eyes all day, having to smile and wave continuously for eight hours, being shot upside down, and now THIS, my nerves are jagged! When, and if, we survive this sailing, we are GOING HOME!" he roared.

The ship sailed into another long tunnel, with many small scenes set up on display in niches along the walls. A catchy, jaunty tune began playing_'Yo, ho, Yo, ho, a pirate's life for me_"

In one display, a life-sized puppet sat in a jail cell, holding out a bone to a dog that held a key ring in its mouth. The puppet had a red bandana over its long black hair, and a scraggly black beard tied up in braids. Its arm creakily lowered and raised the bone.

"Who is that?" Sam asked Gimli, who was seated next to him on the boat.

" I don't know, Laddie, no one important, I suppose" Gimli replied. "Nice beard, though. A little short, but I like the braids. I wonder how I would look with trinkets like those tied up in me hair?"

"You are obsessed with facial hair, Dwarf!" Aragorn put in, eliciting snorts from Legolas and Boromir.

"That is because I HAVE some, ESTEL," Gimli shot back, "not just some tiny little peach fuzz that I try to pass off as a beard!"

"I told you NEVER to call me that!' Aragorn yelled, "and for the LAST TIME, there is NOTHING wrong with my beard!"

In another display, fat women puppets chased grubby men puppets wearing bandanas around in a circle, with brooms.

In still another display, a dark haired male puppet, wearing a broad brimmed hat with a long feather sticking out of the brim, stood gazing at a golden medallion he held up in his hand.

"Legolas, that puppet looks just like you!" Pippin called from the front row of the boat.

"He does not —he looks NOTHING like me - he has dark hair and eyes. Although he IS extraordinarily good looking," Legolas replied, twisting his head nearly backwards on his neck to watch the puppet as they sailed by.

"His hat is very nearly as pretty as yours!" Gimli quipped, earning him a swat on the back of the head from Legolas.

Shortly thereafter, the boat pulled up to another dock, similar to the one where they had boarded.

Two female Attendants waited to help The Walkers disembark. "Watch your head and step, and please take small children by the hand," they piped cheerily.

"Give me your hand, Dwarf," Boromir said, evoking a punch in the thigh from Gimli.

As The Walkers strolled up the gangplank that led to the outside of the building, they heard one Attendant say to the other, "Hey, I have those same shorts at home! I wish they fit me as well as they fit her!"

Legolas looked extremely confused, but the other Walkers didn't stop laughing for a long time.


	18. Be Our Guest

****

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I own a mansion and a yacht. No, wait a minute - that's not methat's Elmer Fudd. I own nothing.

Chapter 18

Be Our Guest

The Walkers left the strangeness of the pirate's exhibit behind, travelling down the path that led out of Isengard. Eight of them were still chuckling, helpless to stop. Legolas lagged behind the others, knowing he was the brunt of the joke, but not understanding it at all.

"Aw, come on, Laddie," called Gimli, finally getting himself under control, "do not take our laughter to heartwe mean nothing by it!" He motioned for Legolas to catch up to the group.

"I know it has something to do with these garments, Gimli. I wish someone would let me in on the jest. I know not what is so very funny about these clothes. I know it is odd that the shirt that says Princess,' and the hat is rather big, but what is wrong with the short pants? I know they are rather tight fitting...is that it?" Legolas murmured, deftly picking out a wedgie.

"Nay, Laddie, they fit you fine, just fine," Gimli reassured him. He wasn't about to tell Legolas about the back of his shortsthe possibilities were just too good to give up. He rather liked having something to hold over the tall, elegant Elf's head after all of the insults he had taken from him during the quest to destroy the ring. Particularly the crack Legolas had made to him at Helm's Deep about fetching Gimli a box to stand on so that he could see over the balustrade. "Really, tis nothing for you to worry about."

They followed the path through the Fangorn Forest maze passing Treebeard and the seven short men who had taken over that station when Gimli's shift was over.

Leaving Fangorn, they entered Rivendell, passing in front of Santa's Toy Shoppe. Of course, the Hobbits had to stop and watch the collection of wind-up toys clattering about in the window of the shop.

"Oh, I like that tiny horse! What magic makes it walk around by itself?" Pippin asked, his nose pressed flat against the glass of the window.

"Those teeth chattering over there in the cornerI wonder whose mouth they came from? " Frodo asked, looking a bit pale and clamping his hand over his own mouth.

"I really like that little piece of cheese that is hopping about over there," Sam said, pointing to a wind-up piece of swiss.

"You WOULD like the one you could eat, Laddie," Gimli put in, clamping his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I AM very hungry, Gimli. Frodo wouldn't share his cake at lunchtime," Sam replied, receiving a sour look from Frodo.

"We are heading out of the park, now. Surely there is somewhere nearby where we can obtain supplies," Gandalf said, hurrying them along.

Just as they were reaching the arch to Minas Tirith, a cacophony of sound filled the air. As the music reached crescendo, a strange, loud whistling sound could be heard, and Merry caught sight of something white streaking upwards in the sky above them.

"Look, Gandalf, what strange star is that?" he asked, pointing to the sky.

Before Gandalf could answer, thunder sounded, and the sky burst into brilliant streaks of color as the nightly fireworks show began.

All nine Walkers dropped to the ground, covering their heads.

Aragorn felt a tap on his shoulder. He uncovered his head enough to peek up. A small girl was looking down at him, concerned. "Don't worry, Mithter," she said with a slight lisp, "Ith okay. They won't hurt you."

Aragorn risked taking a quick look at the throng standing around him. The deafening music, and great booming noises continued, as did the fiery display overhead, but the crowd seemed calm. Except for the thirty or so people in their immediate vicinity who were staring at the prone Walkers, everyone else was just standing there watching the sky, occasionally saying, "Oooh," or "Ahhh." He could detect no fear in anyone around him, except for the Walkers, of course.

"I think the fires in the sky will not harm us," he said to the others, having to shout to make himself heard. He stood up, but couldn't help ducking a little every time a firework exploded. The other Walkers stood also, but they all hurried to stand under the arch of Minas Tirithjust in case.

The fireworks display lasted for nearly 20 minutes. As the crowd dispersed, Gandalf said, "I really cannot take much more of thiscan we PLEASE leave, now?"

"Aye, Laddies, let us go. Me ears are still ringing from all that racket!" Gimli voiced, vigorously rubbing both ears.

"What?" asked Legolas.

"I said "me ears are still ringing!" Gimli said, in a loud voice.

"WHAT?" asked Legolas, rubbing his own ears.

Gimli put his mouth up close to Legolas' ear. "ME EARS ARE STILL RINGING!" he bellowed.

"Your _dill_ is _stinging_?" Legolas asked, a disgusted look crossing his face, and taking step back. "That sounds horrible. You should get it looked at in the House of Healing."

Gimli's face turned purple as he stalked away from Legolas in a huff, muttering something under his breath about the stupidity of deaf Elves.

Finally, and without further mishap, they found their way back into the tunnels to the dressing room, where Boromir, Frodo, and Sam changed back into their street clothes.

Legolas was extremely disappointed to find that his original street clothes were now smelling strongly of mildew, and made him sneeze when he attempted to change. His sensitive Elf nose couldn't tolerate the odor, so he was forced to remain dressed in the clothes Aragorn had bought.

Aragorn led the way out of the tunnel into the employee parking lot. Finding the small wooden shelter that the guide had told him of that morning, he and the other Walkers took seats on the benches provided there.

"The conveyance should be here shortly," Aragorn announced.

"We have not had much luck with the conveyances available in this place," Gandalf said. "I shudder to think what this one might do to us."

"The guide said that it would take us to the rooms the park has provided."

"Bah! I wouldn't put much stock in what that daft girl said, Aragorn," Gimli growled. "You saw how mistaken she was about about EVERYTHING today!"

"Aye, Aragorn. She was misinformed about a number of thingsMinas Tirith, and Rivendell, for example," Legolas put in, agreeing with the Dwarf.

"Not to mention that she thought that plastic monstrosity was Treebeard!" Gimli added.

"We don't seem to have much choice in the matter, my friends. We'll simply have to wait and see, and trust that on this, at least, she is correct," Aragorn said, shrugging his shoulders.

A few moments later, a short, yellow bus pulled to a stop in front of the shelter. The doors opened, and a friendly face peered out at the Walkers.

"Egads!" cried Gandalf, "He sits in the belly of the beast!"

:"Perhaps it is not too latehe looks still alive! Mayhap we can save him!" Aragorn shouted, looking about for a weapon.

"Hey, fellas! Are ya'll ready to go?" the bus driver called, seeing the Walkers, waving them over to the bus.

"Go? Into the beast? Willingly? Are you mad?" Gandalf replied, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline.

"Um, I think maybe ya'll are confusedI was sent by Middle Earth management to take ya'll to your dorms. You don't have to worry none, though cause Ol' Bessy, here," he smiled, patting the dashboard, "will get you there safe and sound!"

"THIS is the conveyance that is to take us to our rooms?" Aragorn asked, staring wide eyed at the bus.

"Did ya'll expect a limo-zeen? This is as good as it gets, boys. Time's a wastingwe best get moving," the driver said, urging them on.

"What do you think, Legolas? Do you think it would be safe?" Aragorn asked the blonde Elf.

"This is outside of my realm of experience, Aragorn. But so far, for as frightening as our adventures have been, none of us has been injured"

"Let us depart, then, and pray Eru see us safely delivered. I do not fear death!" Aragorn concluded, taking a deep breath and stepping onto the bus.

"He always has to be so damn dramatic!" Frodo said to Merry as the rest of the Walkers followed behind Aragorn.

"Watch your step, there, pretty lady," the driver said as Legolas boarded. Legolas froze, but was pushed ahead by Boromir.

As each Walker boarded, the driver handed them a key and a small ticket stub.

"The keys are for your rooms. Ya'll will be bunking three to a room. The ticket there is for a free dinner at the Golden Buffet, right next door to the dorms," the driver explained.

"Dinneryou mean we will eat? FINALLY!" Boromir shouted, gripping his ticket and punching the air.

"As much as you want, big fellabe our guest!" the driver said merrily, as the bus pulled away from the curb.


	19. Rumbly in My Tumbly

****

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I own the dust zoo under my bed. It started with bunnies, but now I have an entire menagerie, because I spend too much time on this frickin' computer, and not enough time with the frickin' broom.

Chapter 19

Rumbly in My Tumbly

The short yellow bus pulled up in front of a large, four story, many windowed building, not far from Middle Earth World Park. The Walkers were exiting the bus, each thanking the driver politely.

"_Calo anor na ven," _Aragorn said, bowing slightly as he exited the bus.

"Um, yeah, _Bonness Nachos_ to you too, buddy," the driver answered, awkwardly trying to bow back to Aragorn.

"He said, 'May the sun shine on your road'," Gandalf interpreted, nodding his head at the driver as he climbed down onto the street.

"Oh, sorry. I don't speak Spanish," the driver called, waving goodbye.

"It was Elvish -Sindarin." Legolas said as he passed the driver.

"Oh. He's from someplace in France, right?"

"No, Gondor. Legolas explained. "Hannon le."

"Hannah who?"

"It means 'thank you'," Legolas clarified, stepping out of the bus.

"Oh, wellthank YOU, little lady!" the driver called out, his eyes glued to the back of Legolas' shorts.

"I am NOT a lady!" Legolas retorted, spinning around to face the driver.

"Well, in THAT case, what are you doing later, honey?" the driver drawled, winking at Legolas.

Boromir, Gimli and the Hobbits burst into laughter, as Legolas stormed off to join Aragorn and Gandalf, leaving the bus driver looking very disappointed.

Gathering in front of the building, the Walkers got into a heated debate over whether they should check into their rooms first, or go to eat.

"If I don't get some food soon, I may have to hurt someone!" Boromir declared, waving his ticket for a free dinner in the air.

"It should not take us long to get situated in our new abode," Gandalf argued, trying to convince Boromir, Gimli and the Hobbits to wait.

"Honestly, Boromir, do you always think with your stomach?" Legolas asked derisively. "You already look like you are carrying twins!" he added, eyeing Boromir's midsection.

"I AM NOT FAT!" Boromir cried, sucking in his stomach.

"FOOD! FOOD! FOOD! FEED US!" the Hobbits cried, jumping up and down.

"Alright, Alright! We'll go eatanything to get you to stop arguing!" Aragorn exclaimed, pushing his way between Legolas and Boromir, and heading to the low slung building next door to the dormitory.

The cheerful looking building was yellow with red awnings. "Golden Buffet" proclaimed the brightly-lit sign near the roof. Best of all, there was a meaty, smoky aroma wafting out through the open doors.

"Ahhh, FOOD!" Gimli cried, sniffing deeply and nearly salivating.

"You would think they hadn't eaten in a week!" Legolas said to Aragorn, shaking his head at Gimli. "They broke fast not twelve hours ago!"

"Warriors travel on their stomachs, Laddie," Gimli retorted, having caught Legolas' remark.

"You'll travel to an early grave if you keep eating the way you do," Legolas responded.

"That's not fair, Legolas. YOU are immortal. YOU don't really even have to eat at all! We ate more often on our quest than we did today!' Pippin interjected.

"You wouldn't say that if you had been in Mordor, Pippin," Sam said. "I remember when we only had ONE piece of lembas left, and I had to give it to Frodo"

"For the love of Eru, PLEASE don't bring that up again! I'm tired of you throwing that in my face, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed. "When we get back home, I'll get you a year's supply if you'll just shut up about it!"

"I believe we better get them something to eat, now," Gandalf said, pulling Sam off of Frodo before he did any damage. "If they are busy chewing, they won't be speaking."

The Walkers entered the building, and approached a young lady behind a long white counter.

"Hi! Is this your first time to the Golden Buffet?" she asked, smiling broadly at the Walkers.

"Yes, milady, it is indeed. We have these papers" Aragorn showed the girl the ticket given him by the bus driver.

"Oh, okay! You all work for Middle Earth Park! We get you folks in here all the time. We have four different stations set up," she said, pointing to each station in turn. "That one is for hot entreesmeats and pastas. That one is for vegetables; that one is for salads; and that last one is for breads and desserts. Just take a tray and utensils from under the counter, find a table, and help yourselves! The waitress will bring you your drinks"

Each Walker grabbed a tray and silverware from under the counter.

"What is this for?" Merry asked, holding up a fork. "It looks like a very small trident."

"I do not know, Little One, but take one anyway. They would not be there if we did not need them for something," Gandalf replied, taking a fork and adding it to his tray.

Filing into the dining room, the Walkers spotted an empty table near the rear of the room. Shortly after they were seated, a waitress approached to take their drink order. She placed a stack of plates on the table.

"What will you be drinking?" she asked, holding a paper and pencil.  
  
"ALE!"

"Do you serve pints? I want a pint," Merry said, licking his lips.

"Thirsty, huh? I'll just bring a few pitchers, how's that? And I'll bring a pitcher of soda and a few booster chairs for the kids. Just help yourselves to the buffet," the waitress said, writing the order down on her pad and walking away.

"Pitchers? Are they as big as pints?" Merry called out after her, but received no reply. "Damn," he said, sitting back in his chair, "I really wanted a pint."

"What kids?' Pippin asked, looking around. "I see no goats, here."

The Walkers each took a plate and walked to the buffet. Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir, and Gandalf headed directly to the hot entrée station, following their noses to the meat. The Hobbits descended on the vegetable station, while Legolas found his way to the bread station.

Looking over the selection of breads set out on trays, Legolas asked the attendant behind the station's counter, "Have you any lembas?"

"Lembas? No ma'am, we don't have any of that fancy stuff. Just white, rye, and rolls."

"I am NOT a oh, never mind!" Legolas said, too tired and hungry to argue about his gender any more. He grabbed a couple of rolls and put them on his plate.

One by one, the Walkers met back at the table, and descended upon their food, shoveling it in with both hands. Even Gandalf and Legolas were too hungry to maintain much decorum. The only ones missing were Merry and Pippin.

"Now, where have those two gotten off to?" Gimli said through a full mouth, juice dripping down into his beard.

A burly manager who soon approached the table answered his question. He was carrying Merry and Pippin by the seats of their pants.

"Do these belong to you?" he angrily asked, holding up the two Hobbits. Merry and Pippin's faces and hands were covered in green vegetable mush.

"Aye, they do," Gimli replied, arching his bushy brows. "What be the trouble?"

"The TROUBLE is that they went head first into the vegetables! They were eating out of the serving trays like pigs at a trough! They growled at a little old lady who tried to take some string beans! Kindly keep them with you, or we will have to ask you to leave. Children may NOT help themselves at the buffet," the manager replied irritably.

"We AREN'T children!" the two Hobbits shouted, wriggling about in the air.

The manager ignored their outburst, and deposited them in two of the chairs now equipped with booster seats.

"Some times I think you two are more trouble than you're worth," Aragorn said to Merry and Pippin. He got up from the table and went to fill two plates for the Hobbits.

Merry and Pippin didn't look too sorry for the disturbance they had caused. They sat at the table with big grins on their faces, licking the vegetable mush off of their hands.

Aragorn returned and placed a plate of chicken and vegetables in front of each of the two Hobbits.

Looking at the large pitchers the waitress had sat on the table, Merry asked, wide-eyed, "Is that the Ale? They have tremendous pints here!"

"Aye, Laddie. But you don't drink it from those vessels. You pour it into these smaller cups," Gimli instructed, demonstrating on his own glass.

"Why are there two different colors of ale?" Pippin wanted to know, speaking around a huge bite of chicken that barely fit in his mouth.

"Ohthe light colored one is called Bud, and the darker one is Root Beer," Gimli replied. "The light one tastes more like ale, if you ask me. The dark one is sweet, though. And both are ice cold!"

"I wonder how they keep things so cold in this hot weather?" Gandalf mused, stuffing a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. "Oh, and Pippin? I have observed the diners at other tablesthese little tridents are evidently used to pick up food from your plate and deposit it in your mouth. I rather like themyour hands stay clean!"

Pippin watched Gandalf demonstrate. "Seems like a waste of time to me. You can't fit much on that little trident," he said, shoving a fistful of lima beans in his mouth.

The four tall Walkers and Gimli chatted about the day's events and relaxed, content after just a couple of plates of food. But the Hobbits ate plate after plate after plate, making Gimli wonder aloud whether they could possibly clean out the restaurant of food.

Finally, Gandalf put a stop to the Hobbit's gluttony. "Enough is enough, Hobbits! You would eat until you explode if we allowed it!

It is time to go." He picked up Merry, and headed for the door. Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir each picked up a Hobbit, and together with Gimli, left the Golden Buffet. They put the Hobbits down when outside the building, but had to keep Pippin and Merry from dashing back inside.

Together, the Walkers strolled back to the dormitories to get themselves checked in for the night.


	20. I'll Make A Man Out Of You

****

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks.

****

WARNING: DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! This chapter and the next contain more than the usual innuendoI'm feeling mighty frisky tonight. Nothing explicit (I've got THAT version saved to my desktop), because I want to keep the PG13 rating. However, if you're easily offended, please skip this chapter and the next.

Chapter 20

I'll Make A Man Out of You

The Nine Walkers entered the dormitory's double front doors, and approached the front desk. An older man sat there reading a newspaper, his glasses slipped down to the end of his nose.

Gandalf stood before the desk and cleared his throat. The man looked up, and waited for Gandalf to speak.

"My good sir, we were instructed to come to your establishment to seek lodging during our employ with Middle Earth Park," Gandalf said, offering a small smile to the man.

"Names?" the man asked gruffly, readying himself to type on his computer keyboard.

Gandalf dutifully gave their names, places of birth, and other pertinent information, as the man requested.

The printer eventually spat out a printout, which the man promptly tore off, and studied.

"Alrightylet's seeGandork, Mary, and Pigpen - you're in Room 214. Aragone, Frobo, and Sam - you're in Room 215. Legos, Gimlet, and Borax - you're in room 216. Got it? Up the stairs, second floor, to the right. ABSOLUTELY NO cooking in the rooms. Bathrooms and showers are down the hall. Laundry room is in the basement. NO visitors from outside the building after 9:00 p.m. Maid service comes in on Saturdays. Free in-room movies on channel 99. Your, um, _luggage _was delivered earlier. It's over there" the man concluded, pointing to a stack of cloth and leather wrapped objects piled in a corner of the room, and went back to reading his paper.

"Excellent. Thank you, kind sir," Gandalf said, graciously ignoring the man's mispronunciation of their names. He turned from the desk, leading the group over to where their belongs lay.

Each picked up whatever bundle belonged to them, and began walking over to the stairs.

"Merry," Frodo asked, sniffing the air near Merry's bundle, "why do your clothes smell like cheese?"

"Clothes?" Merry asked, looking confused. "Aragorn said to pack only the essentials! I have cheese, sausage, strawberries, and a nice round loaf of bread."

Gandalf led the way up the stairs to the second floor of the dormitory. Passing several doors on their way down the hallway, the Walkers could plainly hear laughter, shouts, curses, and music emanating from the rooms. Finally, they arrived outside of Room 214.

Using his key to gain entry, Gandalf said, "Merry and Pippin - in we go! Mind you, no nonsense tonight. I'm very weary from this day's adventures!" The three disappeared into the room.

Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam entered next door, into Room 215. "The same goes for you two!" Aragorn said, throwing Frodo and Sam a stern look.

In Room 216, Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir tried to make themselves comfortable. The room was actually a mini-suite, with a nice sized living area/dining area, and a separate bedroom. The living area held a sofa and television, with a dining table set to one side. The bedroom consisted of three single beds, three small dressers, and one decent sized closet. All the walls and doors were painted white, and the rugs were bluish gray.

"Where do ye suppose they put the chamber pot?" Gimli asked, looking into the closet and under the beds.

"I believe the man downstairs said that there is a bath-room down the hall, Gimli. A bath-room is what we were in earlier, remember? Those shiny white basins?" Legolas replied, carefully unpacking his tunic and leggings and placing them on the bed.

"Aye! I remember, Laddie. Come with me Boromir, I've something interesting to show you!" Gimli motioned for Boromir to follow him. They went out in the hall in search of the bathroom, leaving the door to the room ajar.

Alone in the bedroom, Legolas stripped out of his shorts immediately, and pulled on his leggings. "Ahhh," he thought, 'MUCH better." He turned the shorts over in his hand and frowned as he read the saying on the back. " Hot Stuff?" he read to himself. Flushing crimson, he threw them down on the ground and stamped up and down on them a few times. 'I am going to KILL Aragorn when I see him next!"

He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, content that he would never have to wear those horrible shorts again. Stretching lazily, he pulled the tee shirt up over his head. He froze when he heard a gasp from the doorway.

Turning he saw a girl in a very short, thin nightshirt standing openmouthed in his door. Legolas was rooted to the spot, like a deer in the headlights, arms still holding the shirt over his head.

"Wow," the girl said, recovering first, "I have some pretzels to go with that six pack you're carrying." She smiled and stepped into the room, and closing and locking the door behind her.

Legolas was trapped.

Next door in Room 215, Frodo and Sam had discovered the television set. Having accidentally hit the "on" button as they ran their hands across the enigmatic box searching for its purpose, they had both flung themselves behind the sofa when the screen lit with images and the room flooded with sound.

"What the devil are you two doing now?" Aragorn shouted, running in from the bedroom.

"We did nothing Aragorn! The box started lighting up and making noise all by itself!" Frodo squeaked from behind the couch.

"Arghh! I'll never sleep with this din!" He walked over and banged on the top of the set with his fist. "Perhaps Gandalf has an idea on how to shut this box up," he yelled to the Hobbits. He left to see if Gandalf was in his room next door.

Cautiously creeping out from behind the sofa, once they were sure the strange box wasn't going to do anything more than light up and make noise, the Hobbits, overcome by curiosity, inched their way toward the set.

"Why, there are tiny people in there, Frodo!" Sam exclaimed in wonder, staring at the tube. "Do you think they may be trapped in there? Perhaps we should try to free them!"

"They look too happy to be trapped, Sam," Frodo replied, squinting a little at the images on the screen. "Look closer at what they are doing"

"Great Eru!" Sam exclaimed, blushing furiously, "Rosie would never do thatI can't even get her to undress with the candles lit!"

"I didn't know it could bend like that" Frodo added, staring in rapt attention. "Doesn't that hurt?'

"I don't think I've EVER done THAT!" Sam cried, twisting his head nearly upside down to follow the movement on the screen.

"Egads! Is it supposed to go in there?" Frodo said, as his eyebrows shot up.

"Now THAT I've done" Sam said, smiling and nodding his head.

Enraptured, the Hobbits sat silhouetted by flickering light of the screen.

Merry and Pippin were overtired. Trouble had started when they discovered the light switch, and had spent nearly 20 minutes flicking it on and off.

Gandalf had finally had enough. He put on his nightshirt, and firmly told the Hobbits that HE was going to BED, and THEY had better know the true meaning of SILENCE, or HE would be more than happy to turn them into field mice.

The Hobbits had opted to go and explore the rest of the building, rather than risk Gandalf's wrath. They left the room and wandered down the hallway, peeking into whatever rooms happened to have open doors.

At the opposite end of the hall from the stairs, they found a small alcove. Standing in the alcove were several tall boxes with see-through doors on them. Hanging within the first box were colorful little packages, some of which read, "M&M's", "Payday," "Snickers," and "Lay's Potato Chips,"

The box next to it had no see through window, but had large buttons on it that said, "Coke," "Pepsi," "Sprite," and a few other words.

The final box did have a window, and held round shelves full of apples, cups marked "yogurt" and sandwiches wrapped in paper.

"What do you think these be, Merry?" Pippin asked, pressing his nose to the glass of the box that held the colorful packages.

"I don't rightly know, Pippin, but they smell awfully good!" he replied, sticking his nose in the tray below. "I wonder how you get them out of the box?"

They tried kicking it, pummeling it with their little fists, and, with one Hobbit on either side, rocking it back and forth, but to no avail. Looking around the room, Merry spied a broom leaning up against the wall.

"Watch out now, Pippin," he called, picking up broom. Giving a mighty swing, he drove the broom into the glass, shattering it. Laughing at his success, he used the broom to sweep up the shards.

The Hobbits began pulling down handfuls of the colored packages. Sitting on the floor, they tore open one after another, happily sniffing the contents and stuffing themselves with candy.

Aragorn knocked on the door to Gandalf and the Hobbits' room. He tried the knob, but it was locked. From within, he could hear Gandalf's distinctive loud snoring. He looked up and down the hall, searching for someone he could ask about the box in his room, but the hallway was empty.

Sighing, he decided to knock on a few other doors, to see if he could find someone to help. He approached the door across the hall from his own, and knocked sharply.

"Come in, it's open!" called a feminine voice from within the room. Opening the door, Aragorn stepped inside. The door swung shut behind him.

"I'm in the bedroombe right out!"

Looking about the living room, Aragorn noticed that the box in this room was lit also, although the volume of the sound was much lower.

"Hi! May I help you?" called a voice from behind him.

Aragorn turned, beginning to speak, but stopped suddenly when he found himself face to face with the Wargwoman of Gondor.

Boromir and Gimli found the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Stepping inside, they saw a row of stalls on the left, and a row of sinks on the right. Gimli proudly demonstrated the miraculous faucets to Boromir, who was properly impressed. Gimli also explained about the other porcelain basins and their specific use.

"But isn't it inconvenient to have to walk all the way down here in the middle of the night? I still think a chamber pot is better" Boromir said thoughtfully.

"I agree, Laddie. Perhaps we can find something to use in our room," Gimli said. "I wonder what be back there?" he said, pointing toward the rear of the room, where a number of curtained cubicles stood.

Walking to the back of the room, Gimli pulled aside the curtain of one of the cubicles. He and Boromir both crowded into the tiny enclosure, looking at the shiny silver apparatus attached to the wall.

"It looks rather like the handles on that little basin," Boromir said, reaching out and turning the knob marked "C".

Instantly, Boromir and Gimli were blasted with a strong spray of cold water. Yelping and jumping back, they stood dripping on the floor, watching the spray rain down.

"An inside waterfall! These people are very clever," Boromir cried, very impressed with the water works.

"Wet AGAIN for the second time today!" Gimli muttered through his soaked beard. "I don't understand" he stopped short, as he caught sight of a young girl, wrapped only in a towel, walking toward them. She smiled at them, pulled aside the curtain of the cubicle next to them, stepped in, and pulled it shut again. A towel soon appeared draped over the curtain rod.

"Be she NAKED in there? Boromir, Laddie, I believe she is NAKED in there!" Gimli whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

"Naked," Boromir repeated, eyes fixed on the shower curtain, unable to make a coherent sentence, "Naked, good."

"I think perhaps we'd best leave, Laddie," Gimli said hesitantly, backing away from the showers.

"WHY?" Boromir asked, grabbing Gimli's arm.

"Because I'm afraid of what ELSE may walk in the door in only a towel, that's why!" Gimli yelled, pulling his arm away from Boromir and marching out of the bathroom. Boromir followed slowly, casting many glances back toward the shower curtain


	21. Kiss The Girl

****

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks.

****

WARNING: DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! This chapter contains more than the usual innuendoI'm feeling mighty frisky tonight. Nothing explicit (I've got THAT version saved to my desktop), because I want to keep the PG13 rating. However, if you're easily offended, please skip this chapter.

Chapter 21

Kiss the Girl

Legolas slowly lowered his arms, and took a few steps back from the girl in the nightgown who was advancing, licking her lips.

He quickly darted his eyes around the room, looking for a possible escape route. He backed his way to the closet, abruptly opened the door and flung himself inside, slamming the door shut.

"AwwwI believe he's shy!" the girl giggled, walking to the door and trying to twist the doorknob. "Come on, sweetie, I won't biteunless you WANT me to!"

"Milady," came Legolas' voice from inside of the closet, as he pulled backward on the knob with all his strength, "please, leave me alone! I have not the strength to fight all night, after running all day!"

"It's okay, muffin, you won't have to do anything - I don't mind doing all the work!" she replied huskily, pulling on the doorknob even harder. She succeeded in pulling the door open a crack.

"I'M GAY!" he shouted, pulling the door shut again.

"No, you're NOT! If you were, you wouldn't have run from me, you would have just said that to begin with!" she retorted, pulling the door open a crack again.

"Iam DEFORMED!" Legolas screamed, pulling the door shut again.

"Nice, try, sweetums, but I saw that bod and there ain't a thing wrong with it!" she laughed, pulling the door open a crack again.

"MiladyPLEASE!" Legolas shrieked, pulling the door shut again.

"Pookie, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I AM coming in there!" the girl shouted back, bracing her foot against the door and yanking with all her might.

The door opened just wide enough for her to slip in. She slammed it shut behind her.

"Oh, gods!" whimpered Legolas' voice from within the closet. "Oh, nooh, no"

Merry and Pippin had completely emptied the candy machine of its wares, and were currently running up and down the hallway, banging on all the doors as they passed.

"Whoa!" cried a voice from one of the doorways. "Who let kids in here? It's after nineno visitors!"

"We're not children!" Merry called, pounding on yet another door. "We're Hobbits!"

"Look, if you keep banging on doors like that someone's liable to call the cops, and that would be a BAD thing!" the young man said, motioning for Merry and Pippin to settle down. "Why don't you come in herewe're having a party."

"A party? We LOVE parties! Will there be ale? We LOVE ale!" Pippin cried, clapping his hands and jumping up and down.

"Ale? You mean beer? Yeah, it's a kegger!" the young man answered, grinning.

"Kegger? What is that?" asked Merry, cocking his head to one side.

"You know, a Keggerwe have a keg of beer in here!" the young man replied.

"Is a keg bigger than a pint?" Pippin asked hopefully. "Bigger than a PITCHER?"

"Duh!" the young man responded. "It's like GALLONS!"

Pippin and Merry looked at each other for a split second, then took off running for the young man's room.

They could hear the music from down the hall, and when they entered the room, they were not surprised to see dozens of young people dancing, drinking, and generally making merry.

"Hey, everybody!" the young man shouted over the music, "this isum, what are your names?"

"I'm Merry, and he's Pippin."

"This is Merry and Pippin!" the young man yelled, pointing to each Hobbit in turn. "Grab a glass and help yourselves!" He gestured toward the silver canister sitting in the middle of the living area.

Within moments, both Merry and Pippin were gulping down ice cold beer from large red plastic cups. They jumped up on dining room table and began to dance, singing, " Hey! Ho! To the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe"

Meanwhile, Aragorn was having a few problems of his own.

Wargwoman's homely face lit up with a grin when she recognized Aragorn as her "king" partner from that morning.

"I KNEW you liked meI just didn't think you'd actually track me down like this!" she gushed, smoothing the material of her nightgown.

Aragorn couldn't help but stare at her enormous bosom popping up from under the thin material. It was better than looking at her face, anyway.

"Milady, I just needed to ask a question"

"OF COURSE I WANT YOU, TOO!" Phyllis cried, opening her arms and walking toward Aragorn. Aragorn began backing up, holding his hands out to fend her off.

"No, no, NO!" he cried, backing up faster. "You don't understandI'm MARRIED!"

"And she doesn't understand you! I know, I know"

"She DOES understand mewell, she wouldn't understand THIS, but"

"Wives NEVER understand about things like this, do they?"

Aragorn reached the door, quickly opened it, and stepped outside, slamming it behind him. He held on to the knob, holding the door closed.

Boromir and Gimli approached from the direction of the bathroom.

"I don't know why I always listen to you, Dwarf! That girl WANTED me!"

"That girl WANTED to get wetit had nothing to do with you!" Gimli retorted. Seeing Aragorn holding the door to the room across the way from his own shut, Gimli asked, "What's wrong, Laddie?"

"There is a woman in here who wants to" Aragorn started to answer, but the door was yanked from the other side, and he had to force it closed again. "Who wants todo unmaidenly things with me!"

"And you're fighting because?" Boromir asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Because I'm married, you dolt! Besides, you have no idea what she looks"

"Well stand aside, Aragorn! I'll have a go at the lass!" Boromir said, trying to shove Aragorn from the door.

"NO! Boromir, you know not what is behind this door! You cannot"

"Don't tell ME what I CAN or CANNOT do, Aragorn! Just because you are married, doesn't mean I cannot dip my wick when and where I please!" Boromir, giving Aragorn a mighty shove. Boromir slipped inside the door.

"GREAT ERU!" Aragorn and Gimli heard Boromir shriek from the other side of the door.

"Hey! Where did Aragorn go? Oh, well, you'll do nicely, you great big hunk of man!"

"LET ME OUT!" Boromir screamed, pounding on the door, "LET ME OUT!"

Aragorn smiled and looked at Gimli. "He's a big boy, I say let him take care of himself."

They walked back to their rooms together, Boromir's voice fading behind them.


	22. Beauty and the Beast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I wish I did because it would be really funny to claim them as dependents on my taxes...get them library cards...maybe a Mastercard: "3 loaves of lembas...$28.50; 12 Elven arrows...$428.00; 1 Mithril necklace...$10,544; one golden haired, pointy eared hottie..._priceless_.

**WARNING:** I'm not quite through with the risqué stuff yet...

**A/N: **Okay, to those of you who I couldn't send an email: first, thank you for reading and reviewing! A couple of quick notes: I know, I know...I goofed with the fireworks (but it was still pretty funny, right?). Also, I know they had eating utensils, but I didn't know if they actually had a _fork - _forks weren't introduced to Europe until about the 1600's, so I thought they might not know what they were. 'Eating' knives and spoons were much more common. Also, a big blowhard by the name of Charlie knocked my lights out for a few days, which is why this update was delayed. But again, thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 22

Beauty and the Beast

Gimli entered his room just as a young girl with disheveled hair emerged, straightening her nightgown. She smiled as she passed him, patting him on the head.

"Hi there, cutie...I think the blonde guy in there may need a little rest, so don't bother him, okay?" she giggled, leaving the room and sashaying down the hall.

"Legolas?" Gimli called, looking around the room for some sign of his friend. The living and dining areas were empty, but the bedroom door was ajar.

"ELF! Where are you?' he shouted, getting a bit worried. Legolas had had a lot of trouble with females that day in the park... "I can't leave him alone for a minute!" Gimli muttered to himself, walking into the bedroom.

The bedroom was empty also. Gimli noticed Legolas' tunic lying on the bed, and his leggings were draped over the lamp on one of the dressers.

"Where be ye, boy?" he called again.

"In here..." came a small voice.

"Where is 'here'?" Gimli asked, looking under the bed.

"In the closet," came the reply.

"The closet? What the devil are you doing in there? Haven't ye had enough of hiding in closets for one day?" Gimli replied gruffly, stalking over to the closet and yanking open the door.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the closet, Gimli spotted Legolas sitting on the floor in his birthday suit, a big, sloppy, goofy grin plastered on his face.

"Legolas, laddie...what be ye doing sitting here in the dark with nary a stitch on, smiling like that? Have ye finally lost all your senses?" Gimli asked, concerned for his friend.

"Nay...I'm fine...just fine. Better than I've been in a millennia, actually," Legolas replied, letting out a deep sigh, but making no move to get up.

"What happened to you while I've been gone?" Gimli questioned, standing with his hands on hips, glaring down at Legolas. "Was it that female? Did she do something to you?"

"Oh...she did things alright, Gimli...LOTS of things..." Legolas replied, the grin on his face getting even bigger and goofier. "You know something, mellon min? Tomorrow I don't think I'm going to run very fast...not very fast at all. Tomorrow, I think I'll let them catch me."

"Where do you think you're going?" the Wargwoman asked Boromir, who was still pounding uselessly at the door. His screams had subsided to whimpers.

Straightening his back, he took a deep breath. "I have fought Orcs and Urak Hai,' he thought to himself, "and have undergone arduous journeys fraught with danger...surely I will survive this, too!" He closed his eyes and turned to face Phyllis. He peeked at her with one eye, then quickly screwed it shut again, turning his head away. "Egads, this woman is homely enough to frighten the Nazgul! Maybe if I keep my eyes closed..." he thought.

"Aren't you going to look at me?" Phyllis demanded, swatting Boromir on the arm.

"No."

"Why the hell not?" she asked, irritated.

"Um...your beauty is too great for me to gaze upon?" Boromir replied, trying to keep her from getting angry. Ugly he could deal with...ugly AND angry he feared he could not.

"Awww, aren't you just sweet! Well, come here, big boy, and let mama show you how she takes care of her man!" she cried, leading Boromir by the arm to the bedroom.

"Please, Eru, let me live through this...I'll never complain about having to 'play' dead again...I swear it!" Boromir thought, reluctantly letting himself be pulled along.

Frodo and Sam hadn't moved a muscle in over an hour. They sat enraptured by the images flickering on the television screen, occasionally letting out an 'Oooh,' an 'Ahhh,' or an 'I didn't think that was physically possible!'. Finally, the movie ended, and a blank screen appeared.

Sam noticed Frodo squirming about, clearly uncomfortable.

"What's wrong, Mister Frodo?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Mister Frodo...we've been friends too long for me to not know when something is wrong..."

Frodo sighed, and looked at Sam, "I seem to have a small problem, Sam."

"What type of problem? Can I help you?" Sam asked.

Frodo blushed crimson. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" he cried. "It's just that watching those people in the box had made me...well...you know. I never knew people could do those things..."

Sam looked at Frodo in amazement. "Mister Frodo, surely you don't mean that you've never...?"

"No, of course not!"

"EVER?"

"No, Sam! I had my uncle to worry about, remember? I couldn't very well bring a girl home with Bilbo hanging around, now could I?"

"But NEVER?" Sam cried, unbelievingly, staring at Frodo with wide eyes. "Even Pippin and Merry have been able to wangle a little now and then, although from what I've heard, Pippin giggles..."

"SAM! I have a little problem here, and I don't know how I'm going to fix it!" Frodo yelled, pointing to his shorts.

"Ewww! No need to be so graphic, Mister Frodo!" Sam cried, covering his eyes with his hands. "Just go in the bedroom and take care of it, for Eru's sake!"

"Gandalf is in there!" Frodo said, widening his already huge eyes. "I can't...you know...with him in there!"

"He's fast asleep...he'll never know. Just go on...I can't keep my eyes covered forever," Sam said impatiently.

"He sleeps with his eyes OPEN, remember? That's...that's...DISGUSTING!"

"It's either that, or learn to live with that 'little' problem, Mister Frodo," Sam replied.

"When I said 'little,' I didn't mean 'LITTLE,' Sam," Frodo said, getting a little snippy, standing up.

"Sure...whatever you say, Mister Frodo," Sam said, keeping his eyes covered. A small, sardonic smile was growing on his face.

"I trust you will dare not speak a word of this to anyone...right, Sam?

"Oh, certainly not, Mister Frodo, certainly not!" Sam answered, that smile getting slightly bigger.

Somehow, Frodo didn't believe a word of it.

Aragorn returned to his room to find it completely empty. He called for Merry and Pippin, but received no answer.

"Damn them! Those two little nuisances are more trouble than they are worth!" he said to himself, after assuring himself that the Hobbits were not hiding somewhere in the room. "I am dead tired but now I have to go track them...and I really don't want to pass Phyllis' room again!"

Aragorn went back out to the hallway. He looked up and down, but saw no sign of the Hobbits. Walking down the hallway to the left, he found the remains of the snack machines. "This looks like their work..." he thought, kicking at the pile of wrappers scattered on the floor.

He started back up the hallway, pausing to put an ear to each door, listening for the sound of Pippin and Merry's voices. At Phyllis' door, he tiptoed silently past, but couldn't help hearing a woman's voice yelling from within, "WHO"S YOUR MAMA?" He didn't even pause on his way. After all, he KNEW who was in there with her. He couldn't help giggling a bit at that thought.

Finally, toward the end of the hall, he heard music and laughter coming from behind one of the doors. Listening intently, he heard Merry and Pippin singing that old Hobbit drinking song. "It figures that they would find a party to attend," he thought, knocking loudly on the door.

No one answered his knock, so he tried the doorknob. Finding it open, he let himself into the room. Through the crowd of people, he spotted Merry and Pippin dancing up a storm on the dining room table. Merry had a lampshade on his head, while Pippin was swinging what Aragorn could only assume to be some type of woman's undergarment in the air above his head.

Making his way to the table, he grabbed the Hobbits up, one under each arm, and started to leave with them.

"Whoa, dude! Where are you taking the little dudes? They're like, the life of the party!" one young man said, trying to pass Merry another cup of beer.

"I believe that the "little dudes" are far overdue for a nap, young man," Aragorn said, pushing past him. "They have work on the morrow."

"Awww, come on, Aragorn! Why must you be so fuddy duddy all the time...you made us come to work here - you could at least let us have some fun!" Merry slurred from under Aragorn's left arm, the lampshade dropping from his head.

"Yes, Aragorn! We're just making merry..."Pippin mumbled, still clutching the bra he had been waving about.

"We are going to our rooms right now! Not another word, you two, or so help me Eru I will..."Aragorn paused, looking down at the two hobbits he carried. Both had passed out and were and snoring.

Aragorn let out a sigh, and carried the two sleeping Hobbits back to their room, tucking them into their beds. He soon fell asleep himself, too exhausted to even get undressed.

Gimli left Legolas in the closet, and busied himself getting ready for bed. "It mayhap be an interesting day on the morrow..." he thought. "It was funny enough watching the Elf run from those ladies all day, but 'twill be funnier to see how he walks tomorrow night!"

Gimli turned, hearing the room door open. He peeked into the living room to see Boromir staggering in. Seeing Boromir with his clothes and hair disheveled, Gimli started to chuckle. "So, was she the woman of yer dreams, Boromir...or yer nightmares?"

Boromir paused, shoulders slumped, and looked Gimli in the eye, "I had to keep my eyes closed the entire time, Dwarf...what do you think?" He swiped a hand over his face. "I'll be seeing that woman coming after me with those black leather boots and that whip for the next month!"

Gimli collapsed in laughter, rolling about on the carpet. "Well, that'll teach you not to listen to Aragorn when he tries to tell you something!"

"Really? Well, you should know then, Dwarf, that before I left her I told her that YOU thought she was a raving beauty, and could not wait to see her again! I believe she is going to ask to transfer to Fangorn Forest tomorrow. She said something about having a "thing" for short men!"

Suddenly, Gimli didn't find much to laugh about any more.

Sam was digging through his knapsack, pulling out sausage, bread, and other assorted dainties he had brought from home. It had been several hours since dinner and he was famished.

Suddenly from within the bedroom, he heard Gandalf cry out, "Frodo? What in Middle Earth are you doing?" followed by a loud thump that could only have been Frodo fainting dead away.


	23. There's A Great, Big Beautiful Tomorrow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks, but I am still getting their mail. Aragorn get advertisements from L.L. Bean, Gimli owes money to the Sharper Image, and Legolas keeps getting catalogs from Fredricks of Hollywood.

Chapter 23

There's A Great, Big Beautiful Tomorrow

"Wake up, Laddies!" Gimli shouted, pulling back the covers and shaking Merry and Pippin's shoulders. "'Tis a glorious morning! WAKE UP!"

The two hobbits were curled up in their beds, faces buried in the pillows.

"Nooo, go away!" Pippin groaned, reaching one hand down in search of the covers.  
  
Merry opened his eyes a crack to see Gimli peering down at him.  
"Egads! Gimli, yours is not a face to wake to! What do you want? We just went to bed!" he moaned, burying his face in the pillows again.

"'Tis morning, Lad...we be going to breakfast and then to work. Come on, now, everyone else is up and dressed!"

Merry sat up on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. "Ooooh...I have a terrible pain in my head! There must have been something wrong with that ale I was drinking last night..."

"The only thing wrong with the ale was that you drank too much of it, you glutton!" laughed Gimli.

"Oi! Must you two shout? I have a headache," Pippin muttered, sitting up in bed holding up the bra he had been swinging at the party last night. "What IS this thing?" He asked. "Oh, wait...I remember," he said, blushing and tossing it to the side.

Legolas poked his head in their bedroom. "Are they ready, yet?"

"So, ye decided to come out of the closet, Elf?" Gimli asked, giving Legolas a sour look.

"Give me all the evil looks you wish, Master Dwarf. I do not believe there will be any more hiding in closets for me during this journey," Legolas replied, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Besides, Boromir told me about the exquisite beauty you are to meet with today!"

"Bah! You think I'm afraid of some Boromir-loving-gorgon?"

"No, I think the Boromir-loving-gorgon will be the one afraid!" Legolas laughed.

"Elf, I beginning to remember why Dwarves and Elves dislike each other," Gimli sputtered, taking a few steps toward Legolas.

Legolas laughed again, and ducked back out the door.

"There's nothing worse than an Elf in good mood," Gimli muttered, turning back to the Hobbits, who had both dived back under the covers.

Eventually, after much prodding and not-so-gentle nudging from Gimli, Merry and Pippin dressed and the three joined the other Walkers waiting in the lobby.

"Tell me, Boromir, was the wargwoman everything you had hoped for?" Aragorn could not help poking fun at the big man walking beside him.

Boromir frowned, eyeing the former ranger, "At least she is a _satisfied_ wargwoman this morn. You may find a bowlegged 'Arwen' awaiting you at Minas Tirith!"

"Come now, Boromir...I have heard tell of the woman's _loveliness _and how _eager_ you were to service her!" Frodo laughed, joining in the banter as they walked next door to the Golden Buffet.

"Oh, really, Hobbit? Speaking of servicing, I have heard tell of YOUR little problem last night...though I suppose that would come under the title of self-service!" Boromir snorted, looking down at the top of Frodo's head.

Frodo flushed red, turning on Sam. "I thought I swore you to secrecy last night, Sam? How could you betray my trust?"

Sam shook his head, holding his hands out to hold off Frodo. "'Twas not me, Frodo!" Sam chuckled, looking up at Gandalf, who pretended to be looking anywhere else but at Frodo.

Breakfast at the Golden Buffet was a similar event to dinner the evening before, except that Sam and Frodo discovered the strawberries on the fruit station. They succeeded in filling seventeen plates full, emptying the large bowl. By the end of breakfast, their faces, tongues and hands were stained bright red.

"You look like you've been on the losing side of a battle," Aragorn said, shaking his head at the Hobbit's gluttony. Sam was still shoveling strawberries into his mouth when the Walkers left the restaurant for the bus to the park.

Arriving at the park without incident, they changed into their costumes. Legolas had had to get his replaced, since the old one was in shreds from the day before. They all trouped out to meet the guide to find out their stations for the day.

"Hi! It's great to see you all again!" the toothy guide beamed, as sickeningly cheerful as ever. "I have wonderful news for you! We have booked you as entertainment for a private party today! Isn't that SPECIAL?" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

The Walkers looked at her blankly.

"Come on, people! This is a great gig for you, being it's only your second day here!" the guide informed them, putting her hands on her hips and allowing a very tiny frown to crease her brow.

"Oi! Remember how she gets...smile and nod, smile and nod," Aragorn whispered to the rest.

The Walkers looked at her smiling and nodding.

"That's better! Okay, it's a private birthday party for a very lucky little boy who just LOVES all things Middle Earth! His parents are very wealthy, and have paid to have all of his favorite characters there - that would be you! The only thing to remember is to stay in character at all times and do WHATEVER the guests want! Are we clear?" she asked, beaming that high voltage smile again.

The Walkers looked at her smiling and nodding.

"Great! The party is being held at the Rivendell Pavilion. It begins at 10:00 a.m., so you don't have much time! Run along, now!" she said, making shooing motions at the Walkers.

Still smiling and nodding the Walkers edged away from the guide, and walked onstage toward Rivendell.

"Do ye have ANY idea what she was talking about?" Gimli asked as they walked.

"We have birthdays in the Shire...it's a party!" Sam explained.

"Oi! I've had enough of parties to last me a while..." Merry said blearily, holding his hand on top of his head. Pippin silently agreed with his friend.

"What did she mean 'do whatever the guests want?'" asked Legolas

"Just that, I suppose...do whatever they ask us to do," Gandalf shrugged.

"Suppose they ask us to kill someone? I don't think we should do that..." Frodo said, avoiding Gandalf's eye. He was still extremely embarrassed by the previous night's events, especially since Gandalf had spilled the beans.

"She said ANYTHING," Gimli contributed, carrying his plastic axe over his shoulder. "Although how we could kill anything but time with these stupid excuses for weapons is beyond me ken!"

They arrived at the Rivendell Pavilion shortly thereafter. The pavilion was festooned with crepe paper and balloons. Long tables had been set with place settings, party hats, and noisemakers. A beautifully decorated, multi-tiered cake sat in the center of one of the tables. A colorful banner that read "Happy Birthday Timmy" was suspended from two of the four poles that supported the roof of the open-air pavilion.

A young woman holding a clipboard beckoned for them to approach. "Good, you're all here together!" she said, nodding and checking their names off on her clipboard. "The guests have arrived, and are being brought to the pavilion as we speak. They should be here any minute. The birthday boy's name is Timmy, and he will be wearing a 'birthday boy' pin. Make sure you pay extra attention to him...his parents are the ones who are footing the bill. Do you have any questions?" Taking the blank looks on the Walker's faces as a negative, the young woman walked away, leaving them alone on the pavilion.

They heard them long before they saw them. Shrieking, screaming, and shouting voices carried up through the archway at Minas Tirith, and across the square of Rivendell to the pavilion. Looking in that direction, the Walkers saw a herd of at least thirty small children running full out toward them. The Walkers exchanged a quick glance, fear evident in their eyes.

Within moments, the Walkers were covered in little bodies...pulling their hair, yanking their ears, hugging their knees, stepping on their feet, and all the while screaming.

Legolas was being pulled by a dozen little girls toward one of the tables where heaps of beauty supplies lay in boxes. "Make over!" they cried, gleefully pulling him along.

Gimli was staggering around the pavilion, arms outstretched with a child hanging from each, several youngsters clinging to his back, and another hanging from his beard.

Gandalf was doing an odd dance, trying to keep a number of children from lifting his robes and exposing his knobby knees, while one chubby little girl incessantly pulled on his beard.

Boromir and Aragorn were being backed into a corner by a tribe of young boys who were stabbing at them with plastic swords.

The Hobbits had dove under the tables as the horde of children approached. Having been spotted by a few, however, the Hobbits were now busily scurrying up and down under the tables trying to keep away from the grasping little hands.

Legolas found himself seated at the table, little girls pulling at his hair, doing something odd and colorful to his hands, and smearing some vile smelling concoctions on his face.

Aragorn and Boromir were trying, unsuccessfully, to ward off the boys' attack without hurting the children. Unfortunately, since it seemed none of the boys were over six years old, the attacks were mostly centered south of the men's belt buckles. The boys scored more often than not, and Aragorn and Boromir's eyes were crossing as they felt the effects of the repeated jabs.

Dragged out from under the tables by their ankles, the Hobbits had been divested of their big plastic feet. Four children now stomped about the pavilion in them. The Hobbits themselves were literally covered in small bodies, all bent on tickling the Hobbits to death.

Gimli managed to fling off the child clinging to his beard. Still off balance from the others hanging on his back and arms, he teetered closer and closer to the table that held the cake. Running out of room as his belly hit the table, the weight of the children sent Gimli flying over the table's edge, headfirst into the cake.

"CHILDREN! CHILDREN!" a voice cried over the din, "Play time is over! We are all going to go ride the carousel in along please!"

Several attendants dressed as Elves herded the children away from the Pavilion toward the impaled horses of the Rivendell merry-go-round. Not a few children had to be pried off of the Walkers, but eventually the attendants got them all moving. The Walkers were left standing on the pavilion, out of breath and out of patience.

"THIS IS THE FINAL STRAW!" Gimli cried. The others turned to look at him. He was covered head to chest in white, creamy frosting. "I CANNOT TOLERATE ANOTHER MOMENT OF THIS!"

He shouted, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"I must agree with the Dwarf, Aragorn," Legolas put in, walking over from the "make over" table. Legolas' appearance was much worse than Gimli's. His hair nearly stood on end, teased into a huge puffball threaded with silk ribbons, while his face was covered in multi colored streaks, and his nails polished a bright red. "Exactly how much more gold must we earn? I do not think we can survive any more of this."

"Aye, Aragorn!" Boromir agreed in a high, falsetto voice, still bent over and cupping his nether regions. "I would gladly fight the Urak Hai unarmed and blindfolded, rather than put up with any more of this foolishness. If I have to spend any more time here, I really WILL be dead!"

Gandalf nodded his head in agreement. "It does appear we have met with the limits of our endurance, Aragorn."

Pippin climbed on top of the table nearest Aragorn, gripped him by the lapels, and drew Aragorn's face in nose to nose with his own. "By all that is holy, Aragorn," Pippin whispered in a deadly serious voice, 'I will visit upon you such pain the likes of which you have never imagined unless you get me OUT OF HERE!" Screaming the last three words, Pippin flung Aragorn away from him, and stood on the table panting, and clenching his fists.

"Aye, aye!" Aragorn cried, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I think this was a bad idea from the start! Gold or no gold, I vote that we return home, and forget that we ever heard of Middle Earth World!"

The Walkers slowly walked back to the dressing room, leaving the devastated Pavilion behind.

"


	24. Bella Notte

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I just like to invite them over to play once in a while...GIMLI! GET OUT OF MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER! They NEVER behave themselves...

Chapter 24

Bella Notte

"Just WHERE do you think YOU'RE going?" a female voice called out at as the Walkers crossed over the bridge to Minas Tirith on their way to the dressing room.

Aragorn looked up to see the tour guide staring at them, hands on her hips, blocking their way through the arch of Minas Tirith.

"Your shifts are NOT over! The birthday boy wants his picture taken with you, and then you must each report to the stations you worked yesterday!" she ordered. "Now," she cooed, smiling that huge false smile, "just turn around and go right back to the pavilion!"

"Milady, please let us pass unmolested. I fear I cannot control what may happen to you if you attempt to block our passage," he said through clenched teeth, holding his arms out to keep back the other Walkers.

"I'll NOT go back to those shrieking ragamuffins, woman!" Gimli growled, gripping his plastic axe with both hands, brushing past Aragorn and advancing on the tour guide. "I'll first see this axe, ill made though it is, wrapped around yer scrawny neck!"

The tour guide's brilliant smile faded, and a look of disbelief clouded her features as she began to back away from the Walkers, who, as a group, were beginning to step closer. Each had a murderous look in his eye, and the guide began to think that she really should start thinking of another career choice.

"But, but...you signed a contract!" she whined, making a last ditch effort to get the group back on the straight and narrow.

Boromir backed her against the wall of the arch. "Just what do you plan on doing about it?" he asked, giving her his very best warrior face.

'Why...we'll sue you! We'll take you for everything you've got! You'll NEVER work in this state again! Your CHILDREN will never work in this state!" she cried, poking Boromir in the chest, not in the least intimidated by Boromir's face.

"Legolas? Aragorn? I believe this lass needs a lesson in good behavior," Gimli said, an evil smirk spreading on his face.

"For once, I agree with you Master Dwarf!" Legolas replied, stepping closer to the guide.

"Aye" Aragorn grinned, "A lesson well earned!"

The Walkers surrounded the guide, boxing her in.

Several minutes later, the Walkers strolled casually through the arch and entered the tunnel to the dressing room. They left behind the guide, trussed up with their belts like a Thanksgiving turkey. She was covered in whipped cream, wearing three big, plastic hairy feet - one pair on her own feet, one covering her head - sitting atop a pile of plastic weapons - Gimli's plastic axe, Legolas' bow and quiver, and Boromir and Aragorn's swords. Pointy sides up.

They walked into the dressing room and began to get changed into the clothes they usually wore at home, flinging their costumes to all four corners of the room.

"It'll be good to get home to the Shire," Frodo said, "where everything and everyone is normal!"

"That it will be, Mr. Frodo," Sam agreed, taking off his plastic hairy feet and tossing them back over his head. "I can't wait to see Rosie again...I have a few things I want to show her!" he smiled, winking at Frodo.

"I agree Laddies! 'Twill be grand to get back to the REAL Middle Earth...REAL ale, REAL food, and REAL weapons!" Gimli laughed, buckling his belt and fluffing out his beard.

"Arwen will not be pleased that we did not get the gold we came after..." Aragorn mused, pulling on his own boots. "I fear I will be in for quite a tongue lashing! But I DO look forward to making up afterwards!"

"I'll just be happy to get back to a place where everyone doesn't think I'm dead!" Boromir said, straightening his jerkin. He didn't notice the sideways glances the others gave him.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Boromir," Gandalf said, pulling at one of the long sleeves of his white robe. "Um...well...there were reports that you were shot by Orc arrows...there may be some who think you dead."

Boromir froze, and looked over at the wizard. "Oh, no...oh, for Eru's sake..." he said disgustedly, his voice trailing off.

"Well, I for one, am looking forward to getting back to Mirkwood where everyone knows the difference between males and females!" Legolas interjected, changing the subject. "Perhaps I'll stop in Rivendell before hand. There is an elleth there that has been after me for some time...perhaps it's time to let her catch me!" he laughed, a lascivious grin spreading on his face.

"Merry and I are ready to go home, too!" Pippin exclaimed, "I want to go to the Prancing Pony for a pint!"

"Maybe we could get them to start serving PITCHERS, Pippin," Merry said excitedly, "or better yet, KEGS!"

The Walkers left the dressing room and exited the tunnels to the parking lot. They walked over to the bus shelter, and Gandalf reached into a small pouch he carried at his waist, pulling out a piece of white chalk. Drawing a square and a small circle within the square on the side of the bus shelter's wall, he closed his eyes, waved his hand, and murmured a few words too softly for anyone else to hear. The square he had drawn began to shimmer, and a door appeared. Turning the doorknob, Gandalf opened the door, and held it for the rest of the Walkers to go through. He slipped in last, letting the door shut behind him.

The Walkers found themselves in a beautiful green meadow, not far from the Shire. Flowers bloomed everywhere, filling the already sweet air with delicate fragrance. They each took deep breaths of home, and began to walk in the direction of the Shire.

From behind them came a voice. "Hey! You! BIG GUY! You left last night without even saying goodbye! Hey! I'M TALKING TO YOU! Hey! Who planted the garden in the parking lot? Where's my CAR? SOMEBODY ANSWER ME!"

The Walkers froze, then slowly turned around to see the Wargwoman of Gondor bearing down on them. They turned as one and ran screaming across the meadow.

The End


End file.
